


A Man Of No Consequence

by BreathOfTheGlacian



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Smut, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 08:24:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 36,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9811175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreathOfTheGlacian/pseuds/BreathOfTheGlacian
Summary: Ardyn x Reader: On the night of the celebration for the upcoming peace treaty signing, you've agreed to help Nyx on an espionage mission to find out the Empire's true intentions. However, the events that unfold make all your hard work redundant. You find yourself dislodged from your home, your friends, and without a plan.





	1. Into The Lion's Mouth

 

The fireworks have started. You clutch your camera, as you feel a wave of butterflies fly up your stomach, hearing the first whistles rambunctiously shooting up into the sky, followed by a loud rattling; a sudden reminder that you're here for a reason beyond just taking photographs. The smell of sulfur quickly follows.

 _God, those things are dangerously near_ , you realize. Not unlike the man wearing the long coat and a fedora, leaning on the balcony with his back turned to you, only a few meters away. 

Unwittingly, you pause to study him. Ardyn Izunia, the Niflheim Chancellor. A man who seems to be commanding much of the Empire's political movement, yet all together a man of mystery. He's taller than you imagined from the pictures, a vain looking man who is particular about his appearance. His eyes are fixed in the direction of the King and the Emperor,  who seem engaged in conversation.

_Who knows, maybe this peace treaty will really work out for the best..._

He raises his glass at someone, taking a slow sip. You look across the balcony at Nyx and Lady Lunafreya. Suddenly you feel really small. You grab a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, and down it all in one go.

Even though you've never been one to be shy, you're not used to being around royalty. Being one of the lower ranking Kingsglaives, you've never even seen the King this close. The only reason Nyx managed to sneak you in was your skills with the camera. Posing as the royal photographer, you've been taking meaningless snaps of the guests through the early evening, having people pose and raise their glasses at you.

Everything around you looks and feels expensive, from the champagne you just necked down, to the huge aquarium in the middle of the balcony that houses every type of carp known to man. Even the dress you borrowed feels way too fancy on your skin. These people are used to luxury; caviar and gold. You desperately need to seem more natural, or it could all go terribly wrong. You feel the champagne flush through your body and warm your cheeks. Quick glance at Nyx, who's got his eyes on you. Silently, you open your mouth to mime at him;

_How do I look?_

He smiles and gives you a quick nod.

_That's good enough._

You turn towards Ardyn Izunia, who's still got his back turned to you. One deep breath.

_Come on, you can do this. Here we go then, into the lion's mouth._

Wearing your most innocent smile, you approach the Chancellor.

"Pardon me, sir?"

He turns around slowly, laying his eyes on you. He looks surprised.

"Would you mind if I take a picture?" He seems amused.

"By all means my dear. What is it for?"

"It's only for the royal collection. Might see it in the paper if it turns out good," you try your best to be bubbly and charming.

"But of course. How do you want it? Shall I just stand here?"

"That's absolutely fine, be natural," you smile.

Aiming the camera you focus on him, snapping a few shots. He looks straight the camera, and right through the lens, at you, as he leans on the banister with a smirk. "Nearly done." A few more snaps. You stop.

"Was that alright?"

"Wonderful!" you remark lowering the camera. "Would you like to see?"

"Why not."

You approach the Chancellor and stand right next to him, taking your time browsing through a few photos. 

"Very handsome," you say with a cheeky smile. You mean it. The camera seems to be fond of him, like it or not. He's got a strange charisma, a peculiar mix of macho and a total dandy. He's got a taste for frills and flair, seems very grandiose in his manners, yet there's something understated and rough about him.

"I'm happy if you're happy," he responds, looking at the photographs over your shoulder. You look up and for a brief moment your eyes lock. He's wearing that slightly amused smirk.

_Go on, time to make some small talk. Just make him relax a little..._

"Oh yes, very happy," you respond enthusiastically, "Probably the best photos I've taken all night! It's fine to take pictures of well dressed important people, but it's quite different to get one of the Chancellor."

He smiles at you, "Is that so?"

"It's a rare pleasure to get a snap of a man of your importance. And of your charisma..."

_Am I overdoing it? Too bold too soon?_

He seems to go straight for the bait.

"Nonsense dear, the pleasure is all mine. I get so bored at these kinds of events, it's nice for someone to take interest. Let us drink to that."

_Who'd have thought, flattery works a charm on this guy._

He lifts up his flute again. "You don't have one? We must fix that immediately," he quickly spots a waiter, hails him over, and picks a flute of champagne for you. "Here you go dear. May I ask your name?"

You hesitate for a second, trying to decide if revealing your real name would be a wise move at this moment. Yet without further resistance, your lips let out your name as you receive the glass. He repeats your name slowly, as if tasting it, figuring it out. Clinking his glass against yours, he adds, "What a lovely name. Pleased to make your acquaintance." With that, you both drink. His amber eyes linger on you only momentarily, as his gaze drifts back towards the King and the Emperor.

"Are you looking forward to this peace?" you ask, trying to keep his interest.

"Oh most certainly. It's about time, isn't it?"

You find it hard to believe he would really mean what he's saying. It's well known in the palace that most of the Glaives are very suspicious of the Empire's intentions. Hell, even the King's rumoured to be suspicious. Why peace, after all this? Why now?

"Absolutely. It'll be nice to have some freedom of movement in and out of the city. I'm looking forward to exploring more of Lucis," you continue, "My plan is to leave as soon as the borders are opened."

He smiles at you. "Great plan! I hope you get to go sooner than later."

"I take it you've travelled a lot, sir?"

"It comes with the job, I'm afraid," he responds, with his eyes on the Emperor, then turning to you, "Lucis is truly beautiful. I'm sure you will enjoy your travels. Be sure to stop by Galdin Quay for their famous seafood!"

"Oh I will, I love seafood!" You feel awkward and clumsy in your attempts to create some rapport with him.

_Surely a man of his status is used to ladies approaching him all the time... perhaps he's bored of it?_

A moment of silence falls between you and you see the Emperor and his entourage move from the balcony past the aquarium, towards the lift. Ardyn follows them with his gaze and then, suddenly turns to you.

"Well I would simply love to stay and share another glass with you, but I'm afraid duty calls."

Your heart starts pounding.

_It's now or never. Just do it!_

"Oh but of course!" You try to think on your feet. "Before you go, would it be too rude of me to ask for a photograph with the Chancellor?"

You can tell he's flattered.

 _Good thing I'm a genius_ , you mentally pat yourself on the back.

"Of course not, my dear. Excuse me --" He calls over a waiter, who's collecting glasses nearby. "Could you take a quick photograph of us for the lady?"

"Of course, sir!"

You give the camera to the waiter, showing him what to press and how to aim, then move back to the banister and next to Ardyn. A bit closer... To your surprise he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you right against him. You look up and a nervous chuckle escapes your lips. A faint scent of musky perfume floats around him.

_This man smells amazing. Ok, focus, quickly now!_

The waiter aims the camera, "Smile!"

You gently move your arm around Ardyn's waist, and carefully drop the tiny transmitter into his trouser pocket, leaving your hand to rest on his hip. He turns to look at you, an intense stare, boring right into your soul. Your heart's about to leap out of your chest. Something's not right about him.

_This man is dangerous._

He grins at you.

_Thank god... he thinks I'm flirting._

The waiter is snapping away, seemingly really getting into it, "Lovely, lovely!"

"I think that's OK," you interrupt just as he’s reaching his flow. "Thank you very much!" You take a step back from Ardyn. "And thank you, sir, it was truly a pleasure to meet you."

"Please, call me Ardyn," he smiles, lifting his hat and giving you the slightest bow. He's annoyingly charming, likeable, handsome.

"I'm afraid I must hurry on. If our paths ever happen to cross at Galdin Quay, I'll be sure to treat you to that famous dinner." 

With a cheeky smile, he turns around, giving you a little wave with his hand as he walks away.

"Uh... Thank you!" you manage to respond, even though he's too far to hear you by now.

The waiter hands you your camera. "Lucky girl!" he says with a wink, picking up his tray of glasses.

"Yeah..." you smile, even though your knees have gone all wobbly and your heart is still racing.

Pulling out a chair from a nearby table, you sit down to calm your nerves. You look up to see Nyx checking up on you from across the balcony. You give him a couple of nods, but can't help but look worried.

_It's done._

He nods in response, and then looks away, not to cause any suspicion.

You sit there,  taking in the view;  all the guests with their snacks and drinks, dancing and genuinely enjoying themselves. You can't believe you managed to pull it off. What if the transmitter doesn't work? What if it falls out of his pocket? What if he finds it?

Skimming through the photos, you reflect on the absurdity of the situation, and the possible consequences that could follow were you to be caught.

"Excuse me, miss?" You look up. It's Lady Lunafreya, looking positively glowing in her beautiful designer dress, smiling at you.

"You are the photographer?"

"Yes, madam, I am."

"Could I ask you to take a picture of me and one of the Kingsglaives?"

"Of course, madam," you agree, getting up and following her across the balcony to where Nyx is stood on guard.

 


	2. Famous Seafood

"Miss? Excuse me, miss?"

A loud tap on the window next to your head wakes you, and you try your best to comprehend where you are.

"We're here, miss," the driver opens the car door from the outside. "That'll be 100 gil."

Wiping the sleep off your eyes, you nod, then digest the words you just heard the man say. "Are you kidding me? It used to be half that!"

"Well, a man's got to make a living in these dangerous times, you know. Never know what's around the corner," the driver is tapping his toes impatiently.

"Yeah, yeah..." You dig into your hastily packed bag and rustle through some paper notes to gather together the fare. "I'm so sorry... I've only got eighty-seven."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Please, I'm sorry. I still need to get on the ferry somehow, and this is all the cash I have. I swear, I thought it'd be less..."

The driver looks at you narrowing his eyes and biting his lip, trying to analyze if he could squeeze a few more pennies out of you.

"Alright then, miss. A nice young lady like yourself shouldn't be traveling alone," he says, counting the money you hand him, "You take care now. There are a lot of weirdos out there!"

"I bet..."

You gather your belongings from the back seat and jump out of the car. The driver climbs in, but leans out the window just before he's about to drive off.

"By the way, the last I heard, they've suspended the ferries for the time being! Don't know if that's just a rumour. Well, good luck!"

The car turns to the road, wheels skidding as the driver accelerates recklessly and disappears into the distance.

_Wait, what did he say?_

You quickly look around to see a local, anyone, to ask about the ferry. It's late and the parking lot is quiet, as is the sandy beach. The only noises to be heard are the faint music and sound of tourists having their dinner at the hotel restaurant. _Hotel... Shit!_ you curse to yourself, as you realize you've just expended all your cash funds on the cab journey.

It's all been a huge mess after the day of the Signing Ceremony. You have no idea if your transmitter worked, if they got any information through it, nor where Nyx or any of the other Glaives are. The city of Insomnia came under attack in the early afternoon, and all you had time to do was pack your essentials and head to the nearest outpost at Hammerhead. Hundreds of people were fleeing by foot, hundreds more stayed... You haven't managed to get hold of anyone since you left, leaving you with scarce opportunity to plan ahead. In the end you decided to make way to Altissia by a ferry, to your cousin's house; to gather intelligence, and to formulate a further plan.

At the moment, your only plan is to find a bed and a shower. With no money, it could prove to be quite the challenge, though.

Picking up your bags, you make your way slowly down the long pier that leads to the hotel. The smell of smoked fish fills your nostrils as you're sorely reminded you haven't had a proper meal for ten hours. You walk past the dizzyingly delicious aromas in the restaurant, past the cook joyously preparing her speciality dishes, and approach the hotel clerk at the desk.

"Good evening madam, how may I help you?"

"Good evening, uh..." Digging out your purse, you take you the small change you're left with. "Do you accept credit? You see, I'm on my way to... I mean, you must've heard what happened in Insomnia, and I'm one of the people fleeing the chaos, so I only had a little time to prepare, and turns out the taxi was way too expensive, and..."

"No madam," you're crudely interrupted by the man behind the desk, "I'm afraid I haven't heard about Insomnia. And I'm afraid we only take cash. There's a caravan near the parking lot, if you want to have a look."

"Do they take credit?"

"I don't think so, madam, no."

"Ok," you stare at the man, trying to keep your patience. "Look, it's been a reaaally long day, and I reaaally need a shower, and a bed, so, what could you suggest? I'm happy to give you any of my valuables as a deposit. As soon as I get to Altissia, I will have more cash..."

"There's a camping ground nearby, miss."

"Are you joking? Do I look like I'm carrying a tent?"

"I'm sorry, miss." The clerk looks over your shoulder, at an elderly couple queueing up behind you. "Please, right this way," he says ushering them forward.

"Goddammit!" You let out, earning several displeased looks from the diners down in the restaurant. You gather your bags once again, and make your way back through the dining area.

"So sorry to disturb your meal!" You declare as you huff and puff down to the pier with your bags.

You arrive at the parking lot once again, throw down your bags and kick the bigger one. "I'm so tireeed..." you say out loud, and dramatically collapse sitting on your suitcase. You look around the parking lot. _Not many cars, considering the situation back home_ , you ponder. One car in particular catches you eye, a really ugly one in your opinion, with a weird pom-pom on the antenna. _At least they HAVE a car. I don't even have a car to sleep in..._

You stop to consider your options. The sand on the beach looks soft, but sleeping near the tide is not very inviting. You consider borrowing money off strangers, but understand it's a long shot. There's a younger couple near on the shore, but they seem too concentrated on each other for you to bother them. You scan across the beach. _Not a soul in sight, apart from one tall creepy looking dude leaning on the pier..._ You perk up and look behind you as you realize he's looking straight at you. Not a soul standing near you. The tall figure steps down from the pier and approaches you.

It's Ardyn Izunia.

Rapidly you dig into your pocket, finding a small brochure for the Crow's Nest diners. You spread it out, and pretend to be deep in thought reading it, hoping he hasn't spotted you.

But of course, he has.

"Well, what a coincidence!" He declares, stopping right in front of you. You see two shiny boots appear behind the extremely interesting brochure you're studying.

"I never would have imagined running into you here. Of course I did hope, a little. Are you sure you didn't follow me?"

You know there's no use to pretend you don't recognise him, but you can't decipher wether he's figured you out yet. You lift your gaze and meet that familiar grin.

"Sir, what a pleasant surprise!" you chirp, biting your lip.

"Come, let me help you up," he says extending his arm. With one quick pull he lifts you on your feet. "Now tell me, what brings you here, my dear?"

"Work," you quickly make up, "I'm headed to Altissia for some shoots tomorrow."

"Marvellous. And did you manage to get out of Insomnia without any problems?"

"I-I did, sir. The chaos broke out just as I was leaving."

"I'm glad to hear," he says lowering his voice. Pausing, he analyses you with his piercing gaze. You can tell he knows more than he's letting out. "It's such a shame it came to that. Mind you I have nothing to do with it - the army is completely out of my control. I merely deal with the diplomatic side of things, you see."  
  
You nod. He's making you increasingly nervous.

"So please don't hold a grudge against me. I did so admire that beautiful city, too."

"Of course not, sir," you say quietly. You remember Nyx. If only you could've reached him. Nyx would've known what to do. Without any knowledge of how things turned out, you feel confused and powerless. "Useless..." you whisper to yourself, shaking your head.

"What's that now?" He smiles as you glance back at him. "I heard you were having some trouble finding lodgings earlier."

"Ah... The cab driver robbed me off. I had to part with all my cash. It's OK, though. I can rough it for one night, I think."

"Yes, you seem to be out of luck. I'm afraid the hotel is full anyway. But there's plenty of space in my room, if you fancy sharing the roof for the night. I hate to leave a charming lady like yourself under the stars. Choice is yours, of course."

You briefly scan the beach once more, before promptly responding. "Yes please!"

He lets out a heartfelt laugh. "Good! Allow me, then."

With one of your bags in his hand, he turns and walks back the pier. You pick up the rest of your belongings and follow.

 

 

The room is spacious and modestly decorated, with big windows opening a view over the quay, and two comfortable looking beds set apart. _Was he expecting me?_

You drop your stuff on a chair and sit on one of the beds.

"Which one do you want?" He asks in his grandiose style, waving his arm at the beds.

"I don't mind at all. Thank you so much for taking me in."

"You're quite welcome." He walks around the room, taking a peek at the quay, moving the curtains slightly. "Now I do believe I promised you a dinner, didn't I? Are you at all hungry?"  
  
"I'm absolutely starving!" you exclaim, excited at the idea of some food finally touching your lips.

"Good! Shall I leave you to freshen up? I'll be waiting outside."

"Thank you."

"Do you have that dress you were wearing last night? It looked fantastic on you. If you have it, I would love to see you wear it once more."

You nod in agreement. With the generosity he's showing you, it would be rude to refuse his request. The only reason you still have the dress is because there was no chance to return it in the midst of the pandemonium. _Does that make me a thief?_

You hear the door close as Ardyn leaves the room. A feeling of slight unease lingers over you. You're in the Chancellor's hotel room, and yet you don't know anything that's going on with your two nations. You feel like you should snoop around a little. Quietly, you open the drawers of the bedside table. Nothing but the usual Cosmogony book. He doesn't seem to have any luggage with him, no personal items. The room was virtually empty before you brought your belongings in.

Deciding it's best not to keep him, or your belly, waiting any longer, you get changed into the same silk dress you wore last night. With a quick brush-up of your makeup and a fluffing of your hair, you head out the room to meet Ardyn outside.

"My dear, you do look absolutely gorgeous," he says, taking your hand and admiring you. Either he's very good at pretending, or he really means it. You're not quite sure. Holding your hand, he leads you into the dining area.

You look around to see if anyone recognises you as the trouble-maker from before. Luckily people are more interested in their food. Nobody even bats an eyelid at the Chancellor eating in the same restaurant. While you gaze around and get comfortable, Ardyn has already made an order with the waiter.

"I hope you don't mind, but I'm sure you will love this. And I take it you like wine?"

"Absolutely, everything is fine." You put on your best charm. "So, what brings you here tonight? Or is it a secret?"

"I'm waiting to meet someone here. Alas, we did not agree on a day so I was prepared to wait."

"Oh..."

"Don't worry, it's not another lady." He's teasing you. You didn't even think so far, but it does start to feel a lot like you two are on a date.

"No, I didn't mean... I mean, I didn't think that. Doesn't matter, anyway."

You make some small talk, and start to relax as your conversation progresses. A man of paradoxes, he's got a strange way of intimidating you, and making you feel at ease at the same time. He's not shy with compliments, yet it feels like he's analyzing you continually. The more you look at his face, the more you start to think he's attractive. If this was a real date, you'd be completely into it.

The waiter brings the wine, followed by the food. Only one plate.

"I already had something earlier. Please, don't mind me," he says, urging you to tuck in.

He doesn't have to ask you twice. The dish looks delicious and you can't wait to taste it. The first mouthful of fried tide grouped with the buttery balsamic sauce almost sends you to heaven. You close your eyes and let out a small sound of enjoyment. Ardyn seems pleased.

"I've been so hungry all day long. This is absolutely amazing."

"I know," he agrees, pouring you both a glass of wine. "Well, shall we?"

You toast and and have a sip. _I could get used to this._

He holds his glass near his face, silently watching you for a moment. Then, keeping his intense gaze on you, he drops the bomb.

"It was very brave what you did at the party last night. Very foolish, but brave nonetheless."

The fork slips right out of your hand upon hearing those words, falling down making a loud clinking sound. With that, you earn some more gazes from the diners around you. You reach over to grab it, instantly sitting back up as you realize it has fallen between the floorboards. You face comes to rest in your palm as you place your elbow on the table.

A moment of silence that feels like eternity.

 _That bastard._ He made you leave everything you have in his room, so he can call you out in the middle of a public place, completely helpless. _I should've seen this coming._

You finally summon the courage to respond. "I'm sorry... I don't know what you me--"

"Never mind about that, dear. It's all understandable."

You look up from your palm. "Is it?"

"People do silly things when they're in dire situations." _You can say that again._ He plays with his wine, swirling it around in his glass. "I can forgive you. On one condition, though. I think we can help each other."

"What do you want?"

He lifts his gaze from the wine, back on you. "Information."

"But Sir, I don't..."

"Call me Ardyn."

"Ardyn... I don't have any information. About anything! I don't even know what happened back home! I'm only desperately trying to get to Altissia..." You start your defence loudly but lower your voice as you realize by this point half the restaurant is leaning in to listen.

"I am aware."

"So how can I help you?"

Ardyn calls the waiter over to bring you a new fork. You take it reluctantly, and continue eating, only because he insists.

"I am willing to overlook your little stunt," he continues, "I will let you stay in the room, and even front your ferry fee, if you like. All you have to, is do what you did so well yesterday. I need to know the whereabouts and the plans of a certain prince, and his entourage."

It all starts to make sense to you. _So he's after Noctis._

"You look worried, my dear. I can assure you, no harm will come to him at this point. On the contrary, I aim to assist him."

"Doing what?"

"Getting to where his destiny is calling."

It all sounds very vague. _How did I ever get here?_ Your whole life seems to have gone upside down in only a few days. You take the big glass of wine and finish it in one go, laughing to yourself. _Since when am I chugging down glasses of expensive vintage? Come to think of it, since yesterday..._

"Is that a yes, then?" He asks impatiently.

"Yes. I will do my best to help you."

"Splendid! Well, I though you would say that. Do not worry, you will receive due payment for your troubles. Only bear in mind if you try to trick me again, I will not be so understanding a second time."

"Of course not."

You look down at your half-eaten dinner, that has gone cold by now. "Do you mind if we call it a night?"

"As you wish," he agrees, getting up and taking your hand again, escorting you back to the room. Somehow it feels less like a date, and more like being held under ransom now.

He opens the room door, but you freeze on your tracks. You're afraid.

"What's the matter?" He places his palm on the small of your back and gently but firmly pushes you inside the room.

"Nothing..." you gasp as his touch sends chills up your spine. No doubt he can see the hair standing on end on your bare neck and shoulders.

This man is playing you like a fiddle, and yet, knowingly, you want to give in to it. He knows he's attractive, he knows how to deal with women. _He knows what he's doing._

"No need to worry," he breathes into your neck, in a lowered voice. You summon all the strength you have left, and walk away from him, starting to dig around your bags frantically.

"I'm just very tired," you respond. "I'm heading to bed."

"Sweet dreams, then," he says, following your aimless bustling. "I've got some things I still need to take care of. I trust you'll be a good girl and go to bed."

You don't reply, only nod, with you back to him, as you find a T-shirt in your bag that you can wear for the night. You hear him leave the room, and let out a loud gasp as the door closes.

_How am I supposed to sleep here?_

Thoughts are crashing around your tired head, yet as soon as you climb in between the soft bedding and lay your head on the pillow, you can feel yourself starting to doze off.

In the stillness between sleep and awakeness, you can hear the waves hitting the booms under the hotel, gently swinging you into sleep.


	3. The Covenant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys, all kinds of warnings as we finally get into the mature territory in this chapter. Hope you like it! :p

_In the middle of an extensive crowd, you're pushing your way forward. Past myriad of people, you're trying to get through. There's a great feeling of excitement in the air, people are impatiently waiting for something grand to happen. It's a hot summer day, and the smell of sweat and incense, flowers and smoke mix in the air._

_The crowd erupts into an unanimous cheer, the noise and elation buzzing in your ears. They're all waving their hands, clapping and throwing flowers over their heads. A young boy grabs your arm, tugging it enthusiastically._

_"Look, there he is!"_

_You lift your gaze from the boy to see a glimpse of the figure passing the crowd right in front of you._   
  


The sun hits your eyes as soon as you try opening them, and you have to cover your face, instantly turning the other way. Light is flooding into the hotel room through the slightly opened curtains. You squint and look around. Your bags are on a chair opposite the bed, with the borrowed silk dress lying on the floor in front.

_Ardyn!_

You spring up from the bed and swiftly move across the room to the bathroom door, peeking in. No-one there. You look around the room nervously, pulling down your t-shirt hem to cover your behind as you scan behind the bathroom door, under the bed, and behind the curtains. You're alone. _Was it all a dream?_

You look at the other bed, that is still completely untouched. There's a note on top. _Oh god, I don't think it was a dream..._ You pick the note up, looking at the bottom of the page. It's signed with elaborate script, but you can make out the familiar name. Taking a deep breath, you read the note.  
  


_"My dear,_

_The Prince has already arrived. I presume they will stay for a short while. Please let me know what you find out sooner than later. Ring the number below. Nobody will answer it, but you can leave a message._

_Until we meet again,_

_Ardyn_

_Ps. Please enjoy the breakfast. I have left the fee for your ferry ticket at the hotel desk. In case of a total catastrophe, I shall be in Lestallum for a week or so._ _"_   
  


You look at the time, discovering it's way past breakfast time. _I slept for twelve hours?_ You didn't hear anyone come in the room during the night. Scratching your head, you get up and decide to get dressed.

Packing your clothes, you keep thinking about the Chancellor. The way he approached you and recruited you to his aid is bothering you more than you'd like to admit. _He doesn't really need my help,_ you convince yourself. If he knew the Prince was coming here, how could he not find out where he's headed next? Why would he want you to do the spying? _Is this a game?_  
  


The receptionist today is a bubbly looking young woman, who greets you with a warm smile. "Good morning, miss! Room four? I believe your partner left this for you," she says, offering you an envelope.

"Thank you," you respond, taking the envelope, "No - not my partner."

"Very well, miss."

You open the envelope, pulling out 5000 gil, much more than a ferry ticket's worth. Nervously, you shove all of it back in, quickly slipping the envelope in your bag.

"Is there any way I could still get some coffee?" you ask the friendly lady at the desk.

"The breakfast is over, I'm afraid. But you can order whatever you like on the restaurant side."

You look over to the restaurant, and see none other than the Prince of Lucis, accompanied by three of his escorts, enjoying some lunch. Moving to a table nearby, you order a coffee with some warm pastries. _Good thing I'm a nobody in the Citadel._ The group is discussing their next move. The Prince wants to see if Insomnia has indeed been taken with his own eyes. You sip the coffee and feel life slowly returning to your achy limbs. The party in the table next to you gets up and heads towards the parking lot. Shaking your head, you dig out the note from earlier, and type the phone number into your mobile.

After ringing a few times, there's a quiet click, and silence.

"Hello...?"

You feel silly not knowing who or what you're talking to.

"Is this...? Maybe I shouldn't say anything like that. Uh... I've just seen the Prince. They're headed to Insomnia. Beyond that, I don't know. I don't really think I should follow them, so I hope you get your information from somewhere else... Oh, and thank you for the ferry fee. I seriously mean it, thank you." You stop to think if there's anything else to say, but decide you better not. With a little "Bye," you hang up the line. _I hope this means we're even._

-

A wonky paper on the noticeboard next to the ferry pier announces that all ferries to Altissia are suspended until further notice. You race up the stairs to the hotel area, approaching the friendly lady from before. "Excuse me, are the ferries not running?"

"Well, no, miss."

"Since when?"

"Since two days ago. Imperial orders."

"WHAT?"

"I thought you knew miss, the gentleman from your room said he has left you some travel money, to see you through with the ferry not running..."

"Unbelievable!" You burst out laughing. The receptionist looks baffled and tries to laugh with you.

"Unbelievable..." you repeat, picking up your bags and walking away, laughing to yourself.

You sit down on your biggest bag at the parking lot. _What now, what now..._ It's starting to become blatantly obvious that he's a step ahead of you at every turn. He knew the ferries aren't running. He probably even knew you were wiring him with a transmitter at the opening ceremony. It's a game to him.

You pick up your phone, and re-dial. Two long ringtones, and a quiet click.

"Ardyn!" you yell at the phone, as if you're talking to him face to face, and have just lost your patience.

"You knew the ferries are not running! So what options have I got now but to head all the way to Lestallum? I have no other means of reaching Altissia..." You laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"Just so you know - I'm not laughing out of joy! You better believe it." You turn to look at the quay and the glistening sea that calmly sways it's gentle waves against the golden shore. "See you in a couple of days then, I suppose."

-

Traveling around Lucis without a car is nuisance. The busses are few and far between, and hitchhiking always bears a risk; yet the longer you're on the way, the more you have to stay at outposts and camping spots, and you're not well versed in battle.

Lucky for you, a friendly elderly man travelling to Lestallum for some spare car parts picked you up at an outpost in Duscae. After four hours of driving, you can finally see the city lights shimmering in the horizon over the setting sun.

You have never been to Lestallum, nor have you any idea if Ardyn is actually there, or how to locate him. The money he left you has seen you through nicely, though, and you feel a mix of gratitude and anxiety towards him and the whole situation. You haven't mentioned a word about the Chancellor to the man driving you, but have listened to his stories in stead, about how he apparently used to fight alongside King Regis twenty-odd years ago.

"Look after yerself!" he calls after you as he drops you off near the city plaza. From there, you drag your tired bones and bags to the nearby Leville hotel. _Another day spent on the road, sitting in cars..._

You book yourself a small room, and decide to just relax for a night. Drawing a bath seems like a perfect way of unwinding. _I so deserve this_ , you think, making it extra-bubbly. You climb in and lean back in the warm water. The soft bubbles against your skin feel more soothing than anything else in a long while. You take a deep breath of the lavender scented steam filling the room. Finally, a moment of peace.

A resolute knock on your room door interrupts your little moment. You decide to ignore it, only to hear it repeated a moment later, slightly louder. _Could it be...?_ Climbing out of the bath, you grab the white robe hanging on the door, and wrap it around yourself. You approach the door and peek out of the peephole. It's none other than the Imperial Chancellor, standing with his hand on his hip, looking down at the floor. He lifts his gaze, and as if seeing you, smiles. Your heart leaps.

"Just one moment!" You turn around and think what clothes you could throw on really quick, but the knock is repeated a third time, more demanding.

"Please, would you let me in?" he calls with a pleading voice. Cursing, you wrap the robe around you tighter, and open the door.

"My dear, have I come at a bad time?" he asks, seeing you as he glides in, closing the door behind him.

"Yes. I mean - no, actually," you stumble, "I'm glad you're here. I had no idea how to find you otherwise."

"I'm glad you're here, too." He looks at you with his piercing gaze. "Although, I am a little surprised."

"Oh, cut the crap!" You reply, sitting down on your bed. He looks amused by your frankness. "You knew I would have to come here. Isn't that why you left me that 'travel-money?'"

"Is it?" he asks with an intrigued tone in his voice. He looks around the room. "Only one bed? After how well I looked after you?" he smirks, sitting opposite you in a velvet armchair. "I'm disappointed."

His relentless flirting is making you more and more aware of the uncompromising situation you're in. He knows you're at his mercy.

"The ferries are suspended. I could not get to Altissia."

"Are they?"

"YES!" you shout. "You knew this!"

"Why didn't you wait a few days?"

"I..." you pause to think about it. _Not a completely stupid idea, in hindsight._

"It must be because you wanted to see me again."

"I had to..." You realize you're not making much sense. _Am I lying to myself?_ It's not untrue that you enjoy his company, when it's not all skewed up by games and deception. And even so...

"So, tell me my dear. How do you expect to get to Altissia from here?" He takes his gloves off, placing them on the mahogany table next to him.

"I don't know. I was hoping you would know." He doesn't say a word, but his eyes don't let you go. You try to get him on your side. "I can help you out some more, if you need..." _Damn. So it had to come to this._ Getting up from the bed, you move to the mini-bar. "Would you like something?"

"Anything you like," he responds.

You pick up a tiny bottle of Lucian whiskey. _What the hell._ Lifting a glass off the table you pour the whiskey in. Taking a small sniff, you shake your head, and approach Ardyn, offering him the glass.

"So tell me what my next mission is, then..."

"Really? Business so soon?" He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, forcing you to drop the glass from you hand. You stumble forward, only stopping yourself from falling over him by pushing your knee into the seat of the armchair. 

"Tell me, have you been sleeping well?" he inquires, holding your gaze. A flash of light crosses your vision, forcing you to blink your eyes and shake your head. You open your eyes to see him looking at you all serious, his eyes appearing darker than before. You start to panic under his intense stare. "Why did you really come here?" Another flash of bright light, and you hear a howling sound, like a crowd cheering in the distance, followed by a buzzing noise in your ears.

"Stop it!" you cry out, trying to push him, but he reaches out and grabs your other wrist, forcing you to lean forward. He's studying your face, searching, looking perplexed. For a brief moment you're worried he might do something drastic. "Please... you're scaring me." Suddenly, he releases his hold. He looks down, his gaze landing on your bare knee, resting on the armchair, right next to him.

"Forgive me," he mutters under his breath. 

"What was that?" you ask, dizzy, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to ward off the lingering small glares in the outer field of your vision. You open them again, only to see his serious look turning into the devious smirk once more.

"You wanted to know your next mission?" he responds, looking up at you. "But my dear, I haven't even repaid you for the previous one." With that, his fingers touch upon your knee, softly brushing it, before slowly gliding towards the opening of the bathrobe. His touch sends a feeling of electricity up your leg, and you feel immobilized. Carefully, he slips his hand inside your robe, bringing his fingers to the inside of you bare thigh, softly tickling the skin. "Would you like me to?"

You let out a small gasp as you feel yourself getting aroused by the idea. _Ardyn Izunia, the Imperial Chancellor, is touching me..._ "Yes."

He moves his fingers upwards, slowly, teasing you, now caressing the outside of your labia. Your breathing grows heavier as you let yourself get fully excited by what he's offering you. It feels wrong, dangerous, and that's exactly why it feels so thrilling. He moves his fingers, softly touching you on the outside skin, then, gently sliding his middle finger right in between. "Naughty girl," he says in a low voice, as he realises your arousal, constantly keeping his eyes on you. Your hips start to move in rhythm with his fingers, as you begin to completely surrender to his touch. This man has tricked and deceived you, and yet you feel yourself desperately wanting to give yourself to him. He seems to be commanding your whole body with his fingertips, playing the beat that you eagerly want to dance to. A small moan escapes your lips. "Ardyn..." 

He grins, standing up and in one quick move, pushing you into the chair by your hips. One touch of his hand on your thigh makes you open your legs, as he kneels in front of you, placing hasty kisses on your thighs. His breath is warm, almost burning. You bend your head back as his tongue meets your inner labia. "My darling," he whispers, starting to passionately massage you with his tongue. Every move he makes is exactly right, he reads you like an open book, as if he'd always been your lover. You push your pelvis forward, feeling his lips around your clitoris as he softly sucks on it. He brings his right hand to you, sliding his index and middle fingers inside you. Moving his fingers gently, he starts massaging the spot, still softly sucking, almost driving you crazy. "Oh fuck!" you gasp, as the feeling intensifies, building up, making you move with him. 

"Ardyn, please," you manage to say, lifting yourself with your arms as he keeps his tongue working. He looks up, still holding you under his command. 

_What?_

"Fuck me." His eyes smirk at you as he hastens the pace. Falling back in the chair, you feel the moment approaching. Your whole body feels on fire, as his fingers spread inside you, while his tongue finds it's way into every hidden part of your anatomy. You grab his hair. "Come on now," he mumbles into you, "Good girl."

That sends you over the edge, feeling your whole body tense as waves of pleasure wash over you, forcing out a loud moan. He eagerly licks up all your pleasure as you slow down your dance, still tensing a few more times, until slowly coming to a halt. 

You lay still in the armchair, catching your breath for a moment. Opening your eyes, you see Ardyn lift himself up. He leans over the chair, bringing his lips to your ear. "Sweet dreams," he whispers. Turning around, he walks to the door, stopping in front.

"I shall see you in the morning, my dear. Your next assignment awaits." 

Unable to bring yourself up in the chair, you hear him leave the room, closing the door gently behind him. You lift your arms and cover your face with your hands. _What  the hell have I done? What have I got myself into?_


	4. Blind Spot

The night brings you little relief as you struggle to catch sleep. The bed is too hot, your ears are buzzing, and every time you seem to be drifting off, your mind won't let go and you wake up alarmed, clenching your fists, gasping for air. The dreams that come in between are dark and frightening. You find yourself in the middle of the cheering crowd again, running towards the parade, but when you look up, all you see is darkness. You fall into it, trying to swim for safety. A strange voice you don't recognise is whispering in your ear, mocking you. _You won't make it. You're too weak. You're not the one._

A loud bang on the door pulls you out of your dream. It's morning, although you feel like you've barely had a glimpse of rest.

"Miss! Wakey wakey, miss!" the voice banging on the door calls.

You drag yourself out of bed, and look out of the peephole on the wooden frame.

"Who are you?" you ask through the door.

"It's Mr. Callux, miss, but you can call me Wedge! The Chancellor sent to let you know we're heading out in 'alf an hour. 'Please get ready, and wear some comfortable clothing' he says. Oh, and 'take your camera,' that's right. We're leaving 'soon as you're ready, miss."

"Heading out where?"

"He says to come down and talk to him first, miss. I'm just here to wake you."

"Thank you, Wedge. I'll get ready now."

The man behind the door leaves and you rest your head against the doorframe for a brief moment. Forcing yourself on autopilot, you go through the motions of the morning routine: wash your face, brush your teeth, get dressed and ready. _Why can't he ever just tell me what he's up to?_

Descending the stairs into the hotel lobby, you see Ardyn talking to a tall handsome looking woman, accompanied by a man who you recognise as Wedge, and another man in a Niflhiem uniform. Seeing you, the Chancellor drags his gaze up and down your body, nearly making you trip over on the last step of the stairs.

"Good morning, dear."

You haven't even had a chance to figure out what last night was about, and seeing his face makes you feel like a naughty school girl, being caught by a teacher, doing something bad. _Last night, those lips were all over me. Last night, that tongue..._ You snap out of it.

"Good morning... everybody," you respond, giving a little nod to the woman standing next to Ardyn, wearing a strange looking leather uniform with metallic shoulder guards. Ardyn introduces you to the woman, who is supposed to escort you today on your "scouting mission." _Aranea Highwin_ _d, Captain of the Niflheim_ _Third Army Corps 86th Airborne Unit,_ you repeat in your mind as he says her name in the theatrical style he so enjoys.

"Nice to meet you, madam."

"Don't call me madam," she responds. "So, this little chick, eh? All right then, you better look sharp and better keep up."

"Where are we go--?" you start, only to be interrupted by Ardyn.

"And please do look after her. She is very special to me," he emphasises. They're talking about you as if you're not even there.

"Alright, leave it to me," she responds confidently, turning to you and smiling. "Come with me then, doll. This way." With that, she turns around and walks out into the plaza, faithfully followed by Wedge and the other man. You turn to Ardyn, your whole body asking a confused question.

"I shall see you tonight," he responds before you have a chance to put it into words. "Better hurry up now, good girl."

"Right..."

You have no further words, so you turn and follow Aranea into the plaza. She gives you an examining look as you reach her, scanning your physique. "You fight much?"

"No, not really."

"You willing to if need be?"

"I... I think so."

"I can do my best but I can't do miracles. A bit of common sense and alertness will go a long way."

"Ok, I'll try my best." You notice yourself swallowing loudly, feeling like a total featherweight next to her. She looks tough and proud, ready to take on anyone or anything. "So... where are we going again?"

  
-

Your first time flying is not as glamorous as you'd hoped. The Niflheim aircrafts are bleak and echoey, with the engine humming unnervingly all around you. You sit next to Aranea as the aircraft ascends and accelerates towards it's destination.

"So what's your story then?" she asks, crossing her left arm and resting her right elbow on top. "How'd you end up snapping photos for the Empire? I heard you're from Insomnia?"

You take a deep breath and let the air out slowly.

"Yeah... I've been asking myself the same question."

"Is he paying you well?"

"I – uh, yes..."

"He better, it's a damn dangerous job snapping photos of daemons."

You give a nervous nod, trying your best to appear brave.

The Niflheim Captain explained your mission to be scouting a new location to harvest daemons. Your role as the photographer is to capture samples of the specimen found in the location, for the chancellor to evaluate later. _He's definitely trying to get me killed now,_ you deduce, as you anxiously look around at the Captain's men.

"Don't worry," Aranea shoves you in the shoulder with a reassuring laugh. "Me, Biggs and Wedge will do our best to see you through."

"That's right, miss!" Wedge confirms enthusiastically. "It's all in a days' work!"

The humming of the engine and the gentle rocking of the aircraft is starting to make you drowsy, and you allow your eyelids to get heavier.

"Getting sleepy, huh?" Aranea checks in.

"Yes..."

"Better get some rest, then. I'll wake you when we're there."

You let your eyes close and soon you feel your body slowly falling into the warm waters of unconsciousness. The dark blanket of sleep wraps around you and you slip away.

"We're here." A cold piece of armor touches your shoulder, and you're awake. What felt like mere seconds turns out to be nearly three hours, according to Aranea. It's time to move out.

"This tower only lets us enter in the night-time," she explains, as you follow a long uphill path towards a tall temple ruin. "Lucky for us, the days are growing shorter, so we can get this done nice and early... I guess..." she continues. The sun has already started it's descent, and it's eerily quiet in the grassy open outside the tower.

"How long are we going in for?" You ask the Captain, starting to feel the nerves take control.

"Only as far until the first daemons appear. No need to push it today."

You try to imagine what kind of daemons the tower houses. You've never even seen a daemon, only read about them in books. Living inside the Citadel, you were never exposed to the perils of the night, and having only entered the Kingsglaive three months ago, you never made it to the field.

"Hey, you ok?" Aranea asks you. She looks concerned.

"I'm fine."

A low, howling noise echoes from within the tower.

"Miss, the entrance is opening!" Biggs calls out.

"Alright, here we go." Aranea nods at you, and you nod back, following her into the darkness of the ruins.

  
-

You stare at a picture of a short, impish looking figure, with a long nose and pale purple skin all wrinkled around it's crooked grin. The dark, hollow eyes send chills down your spine. They stare right at you, and you can't bring yourself to look away from the photo.

"Nice one," Aranea chuckles, leaning over to look at the picture. "They're so damn ugly. Great shot, though."

"Thanks."

Biggs and Wedge emerge from within the temple ruins. "All clear, miss! Ready to go!" Your small crew starts tracing back the steps down the hilly path towards the airship, grounded about half a mile away.

"I have to say, for a newbie you're pretty brave." Your chest swells with pride, receiving a compliment like that from Aranea. _Captain of the Niflheim devision... what was it?_

"I didn't have a choice," you laugh.

"Fair enough. How did you and the Chancellor meet?"

"We met at the celebration, the night before the Peace Treaty was supposed to be signed."

"Uh-huh. That didn't go too well, did it?"

You shake your head. "No..." Suddenly you remember Nyx, how he risked so much to get you there, stealing a dress from the royal guests' closet for you, sneaking you in to the party. Did he make it out in time?

"Do you know what happened to Lady Lunafreya?" you ask Aranea.

"Well, the radio's saying she's dead, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was just some propaganda propelled by the Empire. I wouldn't lose hope if I was you. Were you close?"

"Not really," you reply. "But someone I knew well was with her the last time I saw him."

You look down at the grassy path beneath your feet. It looks strange, almost like your every step is sinking deeper into the ground. Rubbing your face with your hand, you try to focus your gaze. The white flashes are back, followed by hundreds of little glares, floating around your vision, forcing you to stop.

"Sorry!" you call out to Aranea, who's walking ahead. "Just a moment..."

She stops in her tracks and turns to look at you.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing... I... I'm just so tired," you respond, your head feeling heavy.

The Captain's eyes flash with determination and she approaches you, swiftly but gently grabbing your jaw and lifting your head to face her.

"Did he touch you?" she asks, with a pressing tone in her voice.

"...No."

"You paused," she looks worried. "Look at me," she continues, placing her thumb on your cheek and pulling your eye more open, examining it as you look at her, then look away. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"Yeah..."

She draws back her hand, placing it on her hip, taking a long look at you.

"I'd be careful if I were you," she says, with the same concerned tone. "I mean it. Don' play with fire."

"I know..."

"Come on, then. We'll get you home in a few hours and you can rest."

"Thank you..."

Wedge comes over and takes your arm, trying to help you walk. You're feeling angry at how incapable you are in situations like these. You're not a soldier, you're not even a spy. Why are you pretending to be all this?

"I'm ok," you say to Wedge, pulling your arm away. "It was just a little dizzy spell."

Though the flashing lights have subsided, the dizziness remains.

-

When your boots finally touch upon the soft hotel carpet, all you want to do is fall into bed. Yet in the back of your mind, a small annoying voice is telling you that seeing the Chancellor is more important than anything else. The thought of his fingers touching your skin again makes your heart do somersaults. You're telling yourself to keep away from him, yet as soon as you hear him call your name from the top of the staircase, you want nothing more than to surrender over your body as you did the night before. Like a magnet, he's pulling you forward.

"Please, to my room," he ushers you as you enter the second landing. Following him, you catch a faint hint of his musky scent that you remember from when the seduction began on the first night of you meeting. Telling yourself it's a bad idea every step of the way, you curse yourself as you finally reach his suite and take a seat on the beautifully decorated divan upon his request.

All of a sudden, you're more awake than you have been all day. The aura of this man commands attention. His gaze rests on you once again, completely disarming. You can't pretend with him anymore. You have to know.

"Why?" you begin, stopping as he lifts his hand and gestures at you.

"My dear, I should be asking you the same."

You try to gather your thoughts, all the questions, all the confusion rushing around your tired mind.

"I see flashes. I see strange dreams. I see lights and glares, out of nowhere! Why?"

"Perhaps they're trying to tell you something." He speaks in a low, strangely calming voice. "Did you see the daemons today?"

You nod, taking your camera and handing it to him.

"In a moment," he says, placing it on the large coffee table in front of you, turning his back. "Are you unharmed?"

"Yes."

"Then perhaps it's best you get some rest now. We can talk in the morning."

You feel completely disappointed by his suggestion. _You have to tell me. Or at least, you have to..._

"No, please..." you hear your tired voice shake more than you intended.

"What is it? Do you need help getting to sleep?" he turns around, smirking at you, almost mocking. _You bastard._

"No," you respond with resolution, "I want to talk."

"What about, my dear?"

"Why did you send me to shoot daemons?"

He lifts his arms into the air, walking to the large window, stopping in front to gaze out at the night sky.

"The days grow shorter as we speak. It's wise to get accustomed to daemons lurking in the shadows."

"That's not why..."

"How well do you know the lore of our world?" he enquires.

You scratch your head. "Not that well... I know of the Six, and of the Crystal."

"Ah, the Crystal," he repeats.

"Yes," you continue, "The chosen king will rid the world of darkness." You pause for a moment to reflect on the words you just said. "Do you... do you think that means Prince Noctis?"

"Indeed," he responds. "You're a bright one, aren't you."

You feel like he's constantly playing a game with you. Getting up, you approach him in front of the window. _If I could only get through..._

You turn to face him, feeling the fatigue in your body, yet your mind yearns for answers. His amber eyes turn to you, making you weak in the knees as they gaze down. The photograph of the daemon flashes through your mind. Suddenly you realize...

"Why did the daemons not attack me?" you ask.

"Ah..." he tilts his head, as if throwing the question back at you, _why do you think?_

You lift your palm to your forehead. _It doesn't make any sense._ You think through the short visit in the tower ruins, repeating all the steps in your mind. Aranea and her men were busy fighting off daemons, yet you were not harmed, not even a scratch, despite only pointing your camera at the devils.

"Don't worry your head, my dear" Ardyn says, gently taking your hand off your forehead. You look up at him, holding his hand in yours, as your eyes meet.

Turning serious, he looks unexpectedly vulnerable, confused. Narrowing your eyes, you study his face, his brow, his eyes, those cheekbones, those lips... _I know you._ You slowly lift your other hand to his cheek, touching it softly, trying to remember...

He turns his face away and pushes your arm down with one swift move. You can't help but feel hurt at the abrupt reaction.

"Don't get yourself in too deep," he asserts, facing away. "It would be unwise."

He doesn't speak after that, he doesn't really have to. The conversation has reached it's end. You feel your body finally giving in and demanding you to lay down to rest. Staring at the floor, you wrap your arms around your chest.

"Good night..."

You leave his room, dragging yourself down the hall to your own. Kicking your boots off your feet, you collapse on the bed, curling into a tiny ball, hugging the big, fluffy hotel duvet. _Please, just let the me rest calmly tonight._


	5. The Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for everything possible under the sun for this chapter...

From absolute darkness, you wince back awake, with your heart racing, almost as if trying to break out of your chest. After that, sleep has abandoned you, no matter how you roll around.

The thought of Ardyn is constantly haunting in your mind, his words echoing in your ear, making your mind work overtime. After an hour of restlessness, you sit up in your bed, staring out the window. The moon looks extraordinarily big, hanging low in the sky, eerily looming. _I have to talk to you._

You wrap a cardigan around your nightie, and quietly sneak into the hallway. The hotel has fallen completely silent. Briskly, you tiptoe your way down the hallway, all the way to the Chancellor's room. _Am I really doing this? Yes, I have to do this_ , you assure yourself, lifting your hand to knock on the door. No answer. Determined, you knock again, slightly louder. Still nothing. _Shit. Maybe waking him up isn't such a good idea..._

Turning around, you tiptoe the other way down the hallway. Approaching the stairs, you notice Ardyn climbing up to the landing. _Does this man never sleep?_

Upon seeing you, he stops, resting his hand on the bannister. _"_ Fancy seeing you, sneaking around the hotel at night. Isn't it past your bed-time?"

You chuckle, giving a little shrug.

"I wanted to talk to you. I can't sleep."

"So it seems."

"I still have some questions... and I can't rest because they bother me."

Smiling, he comes next to you, placing his hand on your shoulder.

"Come with me, then."

As soon as the room door shuts behind you, he approaches you purposefully, forcing your back against the wall, making you slightly nervous.

"Why do you keep losing sleep my dear? I do everything I can to make your life comfortable, are you so ungrateful?"

"No," you shake your head.

"It's the nightmares, isn't it?" he inquires, leaning his arm against the wall next to you.

"They come every night..." you respond, feeling your breath grow heavier under his gaze.

"And what would you have me do?" he asks slowly, smiling. He's seducing you, dropping the bait, seeing how far you dare to go.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you surrender to your instinct; grabbing the front of his tunic, you pull him forward, your lips instantly crashing with his. Without hesitation, his hands slide down your body, firmly grabbing your bottom and lifting you against the wall, his hungry mouth seeking out your tongue, his body pushing against yours. The way he effortlessly holds you up, making you feel light as a feather, gives you butterflies. You wrap your legs around his waist, running your fingers through his hair. His hand slides inside your underwear, eagerly tugging it down.

_I want you, now._

Holding you in his arms, he backs up to the bed, sitting down on the end. You climb over him, tearing down his coat and layers with extreme urgency, as you finally give in to the need that's been growing inside you since that first night.

Removing his tunic, he bares his toned upper body. _Scars._ You pause to run your fingers along a long mark stretching across his chest. His amber eyes peer at you from under his brow.

"Who did this?" You lean in and place your lips against his chest to kiss the scars. A loud sound of a whip slashes right next to your ear, alarming you. You sit up and meet his eyes, looking at you. "I'm so sorry..."

For a split second, he looks sad, even vulnerable, making you understand this man has carried a lot of misery for a long time, all alone. _I'm sorry._ You lean in to kiss him, feverishly. You want to help him, to heal him, by any means necessary. You push your body against his.

Reaching down for his pants, you can feel his excitement through the fine fabric, as you fumble to find your way in.

He grabs your hand. "No."

"Please..."

"As much as you tease me, I'm afraid that's out of bounds, darling."

"I want to please you," you respond, wriggling your hand free, taking it back where you want to go.

"Are you sure you want to play this game?" he asks, smirking. _I dare you_. You move your hand along his lap, gently stroking, making him harder, his noticeable size inciting you.

Keeping his burning gaze on you, he utters your name in a low voice, "What the devil has gotten into you?" he grins, leaning back on the bed, pulling you on top. It only takes a blink of an eye for him to remove your night gown, while you hastily pull down his trousers. With urgency, you scurry to bring your hips close to his, finding the position, as he teases the tip of his erection against you. You bite your lip as he enters, forcing you to gasp when his full size expands inside you. Leaning back to bring him deeper, you lock yourself around him, slowly starting to move in time with him.

You close your eyes; his thrusts send shivers up your spine. Your whole body is on fire, every fibre of you is screaming for more. His hands move up your body, his fingers touching your breasts, making you tingle with pleasure. The room feels infernally warm as you ride him slower, deeper, feeling yourself clench tighter around him. Narrowly opening your eyes in your haze, it appears as if the room is on fire, flames dancing around you, reaching higher in a burning ring around the bed.

You look down at Ardyn, who's gazing at you, indulging in your surrender, flames reflecting in his amber eyes. He pulls you closer, and you let your forehead rest against his chest, hearing his heavy breathing in time with you, tasting the salt on his skin, rocking with him.

"I waited for you for so long..." he whispers, his words making you quiver. Your mutual rhythm grows slower, your mind hazier, as everything else is shut out; there's nothing else outside the dance, the heat, the need. He holds you closer, as he reaches the special spot inside you, his passion filling every inch of you.

"I'm so close..." you can't help but sigh.

"Then do it, my darling," he responds instantly.

You feel yourself reaching the climax, forcing you to sit up as you have him exactly where you want him. You push your hands against his hips, as the full sensation takes over you, cascading like a tsunami, a giant wave making your whole body pulsate. He lets out a moan, as he erupts with pleasure in time with you, and you feel the warm liquid dripping from inside you.

Looking down, your heart skips a beat as you see his face transformed, his eyes bleeding black liquid, his black gaze peering right into your soul. Startled, you stop and stare at him in disbelief. Letting out a laugh, the now alien looking man sits up, grabbing your face between his hands, smirking, peering at you. You reach out to place your hands on top of his, but he holds you firmer, making you anxious.

"My darling little one, do you know what you've done?" he says, kissing your face.

You try to find an answer in his eyes, that slowly abandon the darkness, starting to turn back to the usual colour.

"What have I done...?" you repeat.

"I called you, and you came forth. I knew the first time I saw your face..."  
"You called me?" _I heard you calling me..._

He laughs, still keeping your face in his grasp.

"You've heard his voice, haven't you? You've seen the visions. Why do you think you're left unharmed by daemons? Why did you come to me, my sweet little darling?"

His words crash in your mind, as you try to make sense of it all, dreading the conclusion.

"I came because I wanted to help... my friends, my kingdom," you insist.

"Ah, my dear..." he responds, in a melodramatic, condescending voice, brushing his thumb against your cheek;

"I'm afraid your friends are dead, and your dear king, is your blood enemy."


	6. In The Lap of the Gods

You sit on the bed, wrapped in the white satin sheet, hugging your knees to your chest. The sheet feels cool against your skin, a pleasant change to the burning heat still lingering all over you body.

Staring out the window at the pale moon, you count the days in your mind. It's been just over a week since you left your home. Hearing the news on the radio that Insomnia was under attack, you rummaged through your closet, throwing everything and anything you thought you might need for a few days, into your suitcase. You count the days again. _It's been five days since I've slept through the night._

The toll sleeplessness has taken on your body has felt more real and more heavy by the day. Your mind has become overactive, and you see dream-like visions while wide awake. Your body has been aching and every muscle has become tense, your ears ringing and your mouth constantly dry.

But now, sitting on the bed, wrapped in that lovely, glossy, cool sheet, all of the tension has melted. Your mind has stopped rushing, and everything around you seems more vivid, more present and clear. You listen to you breath, it has slowed down. Closing your eyes, you try to hear traces of the tinnitus, that has transformed into only a quiet, distant hissing sound. You turn your palms up to look at your hands. They're not shaking anymore. You feel calm, serene.

Your gaze drifts to the other side of the bed, and to the man leaning back in the armchair, dressed only in a white tunic that's loosely hanging open. He's looking at you, with his elbow on the arm of the chair, his fingers brushing against his lip. Your eyes meet, and linger for a moment as you feel a growing pressure in your chest. He slowly drops his hand on the arm.

"Do not overthink it. It's all quite simple," he says, his voice calm and low.

You don't know how to respond to him, to this man who was meant to be only a temporary inconvenience in your attempts to help your kingdom, but who has completely thrown your life off the rails. _He must be insane. He's just an insane old dude, and I only believe him because I'm too tired, I'm hallucinating..._

Yet concentrating on your body again, you realize all the restlessness is gone, but you're not sleepy, just present.

You let out a slight chuckle. He responds with a sly smile.

"So when I spoke to you for the first time, you knew...?" You run your fingers along the sheet, feeling the smooth material on your fingertips.

"I had to be sure," he responds.

"So you stopped the ferries from running?"  
"I had not a hand in that. It simply worked out in my favour."He pauses to look at you brushing your fingers against the sheets. No other sheets have ever felt that lovely to touch. Everything around you is inviting, pleasant. You feel almost intoxicated.

"You wanted to come, did you not?" he continues. You nod in response. Nothing about the situation is making sense, his words, your life, your body... the thought of it all makes you laugh. He smiles at you as if agreeing with how absurd you find it.

"And I am so glad you came," he continues.

You laugh, moving your palms along the sheet.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? You thought you'd punish me for trying to spy on the Empire by messing with my head..."

He shakes his head, "No."

In the back of your mind, you know the things he told you are true. The uneasy certainty you've had all along; the nightmares, the voices, the visions all were driving you towards him. It was inevitable. He's telling the truth.

"Do they know what you are?" you ask, hesitantly.

"No."

"Nobody?"

"Only you."

You take a deep breath, rolling your head around from side to side.

"Why me, then?" you continue, your eyes shut, caressing the sleek, cool sheets.

"It was not my choice. It was always going to be you. It's in your blood."

"And what am I supposed to do?"

He leans forward in the chair, grinning.

"You are my Oracle."

Though he utters the words with conviction, the weight of what he's saying is almost mocking you.

"I am nothing, I am nobody..."

He stands up, beginning to slowly pace around the room.

"Long time ago, there were several Oracles, each able to communicate the will of men to the Gods. One priestess devoted herself to Ifrit, in particular. She remained faithful to him, even after he turned against the other five. You, my dear, are the descendant of her bloodline. Remarkably, you even resemble her in your look."  
  
"Did you know her?"

He stops, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I knew her well. She met a terrible fate in the hands of a foreign King, burned at the stake. And I watched her perish. But as the flames engulfed her body, she screamed at the King and the people watching that Ifrit would keep her safe. She vowed that when the time was nigh, one with her blood would come forward."

"Was she your lover?"

Turning to you, he smiles. "For a brief moment, yes."

You sit up in the bed, grabbing the sheets. "Are we related?!"

"No," he replies laughing. "She had no children, but others in her family did. You have inherited her skill and her destiny through many a generation."

You stare at him, unable to respond.

"Why, my dear, you look so worried. I assure, it's not as bad as it sounds," he continues, approaching the bed and sitting down on the edge. The closer his body is to you, the more blurry you feel. Your gaze finds it's way to the opening in his tunic, and to the large scar stretching across his chest.

"And what if I don't want that destiny?" you ask.

"Then I suggest you seek out Lady Lunafreya, before it's too late."He lifts his arm, taking your chin between his fingers, turning your face to look at him. "But you don't really want that, do you?"

You feel weary, heavy, your hands clutching the sheet. "No," you reply.

You desperately want him to touch you again, your whole body becomes weak at his nearness.

"Good girl," he whispers, leaning closer, placing a kiss on your forehead. You close your eyes, his lips burning on your skin.

"I'll be what you make me," you answer.

"That's what I wanted to hear," he purrs.

You start to drift, slowly sinking into the complete darkness; the cool, accepting, inviting darkness. You allow it to engulf you, to wrap around you, and within a few breaths, you're gone.

-

Next day, he moves you into his room. He explains he wants to keep an eye on you, to make sure you're alright, but you can't help but feel like it's a way of asserting ownership. He goes away during the day, leaving you to figure it out all by yourself. He tells you he expects you to be in when he returns. You spend the day debating the situation with yourself. Reading through the whole of Cosmogony, you try to understand if any of what he's told you is the whole reality.

After sundown, you sit in the room waiting for him nervously, part of you wanting to run away, the other part knowing he could easily come and find you if you did. He returns late, with an insatiable thirst, carrying you to bed as soon as he enters the room. He doesn't talk, demanding your body, and you give in, with every part of your being wanting him to possess you. Everything becomes a blur when he's near, he has complete control over you and you're momentarily content in your weakness.

Burying your face into the same satin sheets, arching your back as he takes you from behind, you beg for more with every thrust, crying for him to do it harder. He leans forward, biting your skin, fucking you like a wild animal, as you plead for him to never stop, to never let you go. You've never wanted anyone like this.

He calls you his priestess, his goddess. You try to quiet your moans of pleasure into the sheets, as your body quivers at his power over you, your climax finally releasing all the conflicting emotions you've been holding inside. You lie on the bed, whimpering, bursting to tears without even knowing why.

He falls on the bed next to you, pulling you closer. You cover your face with your hands, trying to hide that you're crying.

"Come now,"he says in a low voice, turning on his back, as your head comes to rest against his chest. You wipe your face dry, listening to his heartbeat. _So at least he has a heartbeat._ You close your eyes and only listen for a moment. The way he treats you has you constantly on your toes. If everything he's told you is true, you should know he's incapable of offering you anything more, yet you long for him all the time. You hate being so compromised. You hate him for making you love being weak.

"We're heading to Altissia tomorrow," he starts. You lift yourself up on your arm, turning to look at him. He mirrors your movement, leaning his head on his arm.

"Isn't that where you wanted to go?"

"Why?"you ask.

"I have important business there." He stops, studying your face, his expression turning serious. "Are you thinking of running away?"

"I'm sorry if I'm having a bit of an identity crisis!" you respond without thinking. His serious eyes remain on you.

"Then you'll be glad to know Lady Lunafreya is currently staying there. Perhaps I should arrange an audience?"

"For what?" you demand.

"To purge you."

His words give you that sinking feeling once again. _To purge...?_

"Am I somehow tainted?" you quiz, starting to get angry with him. "What have you done to me that I should be purged?"

"You've made a pact, my dear," he responds, "I thought we'd established that."

You see that smug smile return to his lips. You want to challenge him.

"Am I just a copy of a past lover to you?"

He chuckles at your suggestion.

"Oh no, my dear. You are very much your own. Can you not see how intoxicated I am at the mystery you represent?"

His flattery would normally make you weak, but you remain determined.

"Then I would very much like to talk to Lady Lunafreya."

He sits up, pulling up his trousers nonchalantly.

"So you shall,"he promises. "Now get some sleep."  
  
You feel frustrated at the lack of connection, the lack of communication. You reach out, taking his hand just as he's about to get up.

"Wait."  
He turns to look at you, with that same surprised face you remember seeing when you first approached him with your camera. You take his hand to your face, kissing his palm. "Please wait."

Brushing his hand against your cheek, you move closer to him, his amber eyes giving you a pained expression you've only seen once before. You press your lips next to his ear. "Please stay with me," you whisper. Closing his eyes, he softly pushes his forehead against yours. You take your other hand and run your fingers through his hair, gently closing your eyes, breathing in his closeness. You want to know him beyond the physical need. You want to reach his heart, to read his soul.

Opening his eyes, he pulls away from you, looking annoyed.

"Don't bore me," he says, getting up and picking up pieces of his clothing off the floor.

"Now get some rest, you're going to need it tomorrow."

Without giving you another look, he exits the room. A few moments pass as you run through all the events of the day in your head. Grabbing a pillow off the bed, you toss it at the door in anger.

"You bastard!" you yell after him. Warm tears roll down from the corner of your eye as you start to feel truly sorry for yourself. _I'm an idiot. A complete idiot._

You don't want to be his toy anymore, or get any more sucked in to his stories. Lying down on the bed, you cover yourself with the cool satin sheet that now feels cold and inadequate against your skin. _Tomorrow, it needs to happen tomorrow,_ you decide. _Tomorrow I need to see Lady Lunafreya_.


	7. Across The Seas

Running through the narrow streets, you squeeze your bags in your hands. _I'm late. I'm gonna be too late, and he's going to leave me here, out of spite..._ You turn a corner, bumping into an elderly man casually walking down the alleyway.

"Hey watch where you're going!"

"So sorry! I'm so sorry!" you shout in passing, hurrying down the stairs on the alley that leads towards the main road.

The sun is high up in the sky and you feel droplets of sweat run down your back as you make it out of the maze of little streets into the steamy road, panting, trying to see if there's any trace of Imperial troops. Looking up, you see a magitek engine drift away in the horizon.

"No, no, no..."

You try running after it, realizing the futility of your attempt. Abandoning the idea, you drop your bags on the pavement, and sit down on the bigger one. _Here I am again..._

You were given a time by the Chancellor, to board the magitek ship with him, your only viable way of reaching Altissia. You exhale, remembering that's the least of your troubles. It's only started to sink in, what happened within the last few days.

Your friends back home, dead. Your home, destroyed. There's no going back. And you've fallen hard for the man who's responsible for everything. He has bewitched you, told you stories of legends and prophesies, made you believe you're somehow part of it all, part of his master plan, and that it's your _destiny_. Letting out a despairing sigh, you look at the passing cars and the dust rising off the road.

"Miss! Hey, Miss!" you hear a familiar voice calling behind you.

Turning to look, you see Wedge running down the stairs, dressed in his full Imperial uniform.

"Miss," he stops, finally reaching you, trying to catch his breath. "There... there you are."

"Wedge, what's the matter?" you get up from your suitcase. "And why are you wearing a leather coat on a day like today?"

"Haha, very funny... trust me... it's not out of choice..." he responds, still out of breath.

"I've been looking for you, miss. I saw you leave the hotel, but the Chancellor sent me to escort you to the ship. Ship's gone now, miss, we've missed it!"

"I know!" you respond in an annoyed voice, instantly realizing you're being rude. "And thank you. I'm so sorry I made you run around."

"It's ok. Lady Aranea's coming to pick me up soon. I reckon we can drop you off at Altissia, was it?"

"Yeah," you nod, "Altissia."

 

 

Seeing the Captain's face is a real relief.   
  
"Welcome on board," she smiles, offering you her arm and pulling you up the ramp. Wedge and Biggs insist on carrying in your bags. You feel embarrassed with all the help they're giving you, and can't even keep a serious face talking to Aranea.

"Thank you so much," you chuckle. "I'm such an idiot."

"No problem, doll," she responds with a wink. "Still running errands, huh?"

You purse your lips together, nodding.

"Fine, if that's what you guys call it," she responds.

The magitek engine takes to the sky, the familiar humming engine growing louder as you see the city of Lestallum getting smaller below. Fastening your seat belts, you take your place next to Aranea again.

"So tell me," she turns to you, talking over the humming engine, "Not that it's any of my business, but... well you know, are you looking after yourself?"

You feel a sudden burst of emotions take over, your eyes welling up. It's been too long since anyone asked that, since anyone cared. Biting your lip, you stare at her glassy-eyed, doing your best to remain neutral.

"Uh-huh," you nod.

You feel an urge to tell her everything. You haven't been able to speak about this to anyone, the Chancellor has isolated you and spun you in his web so tight you can't even remember when you last had a heart to heart with someone who cares.

She seems to be reading it all in your face. Placing her hand on yours, she gives it a little squish.

"It's ok," she leans in, speaking more quiet. "You can tell me later."

You give her a nod and can't help but smile, wiping the corner of your eye.

"Thank you."

 

 

Altissia is the furthest away from home you've been for years. The former plan to visit your cousin has flown out the window, as you don't want to involve any of your family in the mess you're in. By the time you reach the city, it's already nightfall. Watching the beautiful waterway entrance below you, you feel a strange pressure in your chest; a longing you'd rather not feel. _I can't wait to see him._

The Captain has offered to escort you to the Imperial Residence downtown, where all the Empire officials stay on their visits. Walking you up and down the staircases crossing the canals, she finally leaves her men behind to wait at the airship. She doesn't waste any time getting to the point.

"Ok sweetheart, if you need help, you better tell me now. I can make a few moves to get you far away for a while if you need."  
  
"No - " you protest, taking a moment to observe her concerned expression. "I'm... I'm fine."  
  
"Really? You don't seem it," she replies. Of course, she's right.

Summoning all the courage you have, you decide to confide in her. You can't tell her everything, but you tell her of how the Chancellor has given you a very important task, a task you don't know how to fulfil. You tell her that you're involved with the Chancellor, but she responds she already gathered that. You tell her you're worried about the Empire and where the world is going. While you let everything out, like a free flowing river that has been held back too long, she slows down as you reach the Imperial Residence.

Before taking you inside, she turns to you, looking at you like an old friend, with concern and care.

"Look, I'm worried about all of that, too," she confesses. "Truth be told, I'm leaving the service, but that's a secret for now. If you ever need to get away, you can reach out. I'm sure we could help each other out in one way or --"

She's interrupted as the double doors to the residence are opened, with two officials you don't recognise walking out to the street.

"Stay smart," she sighs, padding you on the shoulder. "Good luck."

The Captain takes her leave, and you take a deep breath before carrying your bags into the building.

First thing you see as you enter is Ardyn standing in the lobby, leaning on the ornamented wall.

"You're late..." he states, greeting you with a smile.

"I'm so sorry..." _Is this all I can say anymore? Sorry, sorry, sorry._

"Come, let me show you to our room," he offers, grabbing your bags.

"With you...?" you follow him, up the spiral stairs covered in a soft red carpet.

"Of course, my dear. I couldn't bear it any other way," he responds, looking down at you grinning.

The residence is an extensive building, with high ceilings, and many corridors. You pass a few larger rooms with dining tables, parquet floors and massive paintings on the walls. Finally you reach the eastern wing of the building, Ardyn leading you into a suite at the end of a small corridor.

"Wow." You enter the room, decorated with large vases of red and pink lilies, the tall windows open to a view over the street and canal outside. The room is enormous, the bed is enormous, everything covered in embroidered, heavy fabrics.

"I hope you like it," he says, laying down your bags.

"Of course!" you respond, walking around the room, touching everything. "It's gorgeous..."

"Now you better get changed," he continues, watching you take your time examining the room. "There's a small reception being held in honour of the Empire. Formalities, I'm afraid..."

"You want me there?" you ask, stopping as you're smelling the lilies.

"Do wear that dress of yours," he smirks, walking to the door. "I shall await at the end of the corridor."

 

 

Making sure not to keep him waiting, you find the borrowed silk dress you have kept with you ever since that fateful night. Dressing up, you feel a strange joy at being where you are. Your whole life, you've been nobody, you've never experienced luxury like this. _Screw it, might as well enjoy it while I'm here._

Inspired by the flowers, you give yourself a few sprays of a lily-scented perfume you found in the bottom of your bag, and head down the hall.

As you approach Ardyn, you find him around the corner, holding his fedora in his left hand, talking to a tall man dressed in a white Imperial costume. The man seems upset about something, talking in a raised voice.

"Let us not worry about it tonight.." you hear Ardyn mutter, as you reach the pair.

"Ah, my dear," he says, turning to face you. "Stunning as always." He takes your hand, bringing it to his lips and placing a soft kiss on the back. His amber eyes burn right through you.

"Allow me to introduce, Lord Ravus Nox Fleuret, of the Tenebrae family."

You give a slight bow, smiling at the man. "Pleased to meet you."

As Ardyn theatrically introduces you as his 'very dear friend', you run the man's name through your mind once again. _Nox Fleuret. Lady Lunafreya's brother?_

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," he responds, forcing a smile. "If you'd excuse me, I believe we're expected at the reception." With that, he gives a hasty bow, and turns to walk down the staircase.

"I'm afraid he's got no manners with the ladies," Ardyn muses, lifting up his fedora, placing it on his head and turning to you. "Well, shall we?"

 

 

The reception is held in a bright ballroom, with many representatives from both the Empire and Altissian municipality. Wearing his fedora and all his charm, Ardyn truly becomes the Chancellor of Niflheim; the politician, the face of the Empire. You observe him as he moves with ease from conversation to conversation, introducing you to half a dozen important people whose names you instantly forget. _You cunning snake, you lying daemon_ , you think, sipping on yet another expensive champagne you could never afford on your own. You're all smiles outside, complete emotional mess on the inside.

Feeling your confidence build with the time spent at the reception, or perhaps with the alcohol, you decide to breach the subject that has been pressing on your mind all evening.

"Could I have your attention just for a moment?" you request, taking Ardyn's arm while he's mid-conversation with an elderly woman. "It won't take a minute."

Apologising to the woman, he walks you to a quiet corner of the room.

"What is it my dear? No need to be so rude," he smirks.

"This is important," you insist. "You said I can have an audience with Lady Lunafreya."

"Ah, about that..." he starts.

"No, no. You promised. This is too much for me. I've had some time to think, and I've decided. I can't do this."

His expression becomes pensive, his eyes studying you, trying to call your bluff.

"I would advise against making any hasty decisions, while you're under the influence."

His arrogance is infuriating.

"Under the influence? How dare you!" you respond, trying to keep your voice down through your annoyance.

"My dear, let's sleep on it," he suggests, already turning and walking away, not giving you a second look. You stare at him in disbelief, returning to the conversation he was having earlier.

Suddenly you start to feel like you were never going to get that audience.

You scan the room, for more champagne, for an escape, for something to take your mind off things. Your eyes find the tall man in white, standing alone in the corner, looking deep in thought. _Ravus Nox Fleuret._

Once again putting on your best charm, you approach the supposed former Prince of Tenebrae.

"Excuse me, we were introduced earlier," you greet him with a friendly smile.

"Oh, indeed. Apologies for my hurried departure," he responds. The man looks sad.

"No, by all means. May I ask you, if I understood correctly," you continue, "Are you in fact related to the lovely Lady Lunafreya?"

"I am. I am her brother."

You feel you've already reached a small victory. _Now to take it home._

"I had the pleasure of meeting her once," you tell the Tenebraean Prince. "I'm a photographer, and I had a chance to photograph her with a friend of mine at the reception in the citadel – in Insomnia..."

You pause as the memories of that night flash trough your mind. _My friend. My home._

"I see," Ravus responds, seemingly unimpressed.

"Do you know where I might find her? I would love to share the photographs with her. They hold a special significance, especially with all that happened after. My friend... he didn't make it."

"I am sorry to hear that." Ravus is short in his correspondence.

"Please," you approach him, reaching for his hand. Feeling the cold metal against your palm, you realize your mistake, nevertheless determined to get him to help you.

"I implore you," you whisper leaning closer to him, "It's not just the picture... it's very important."

The tall man's face seems concerned, but curious. Before he has a chance to respond, you feel a hand wrap around your arm, wrenching you back and away from Ravus.

"I do apologize, is she bothering you?" the familiar voice is low, without the usual melodic tone.

"Not at all --" Ravus tries to respond, but you're already being walked away and out of the ballroom. The strong grip around your arm hurting you, you try to wriggle away as Ardyn walks you to the now empty entrance hall.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asks calmly but with a low, serious voice, pushing you against the wall.

"What do you mean?" you reply, bursting out laughing. "You're crazy," you laugh, trying to free your arm and push him away. He doesn't budge.

"I thought I told you not to make any hasty decisions." The resolute golden gaze remains on you.

"Let me go," you try to laugh it off, starting to realize the tragedy of the situation. You're his puppet, you have no free will. "Let me go," you repeat, with words choking in your throat. _It's not funny anymore._

His eyes travel down to your lips, your throat, to your rapidly breathing chest, peeking inside your dress, then slowly back up.

"Don't forget who you are," he snarls, letting go of your arm, taking a step back. Walking backwards, he tips his fedora theatrically at you, then turns around an disappears down the hallway to the ballroom.

You take a moment leaning against the wall, catching your breath. _I can't go back there. I won't._

On a whim, you grab a long black coat that's hanging on the stand in the reception room. Pulling the coat over your shoulders, you open the double doors, heading out to the rainy street.


	8. In The Lap Of The Gods, Revisited

After Lestallum, the nocturnal streets of Altissia are refreshingly peaceful and orderly. In any other place, you would stand out, in your glossy dress and the long, costly feeling black coat, balancing on the wet cobblestones with your little heels. Yet in the ministerial district with it's fancy shops and cafes, you blend in completely with the sophisticated looking crowd.

Breathing in the fresh night air, you shelter yourself from the rain under the massive coat, looking around for somewhere to stop and gather your thoughts. Passing a display window showcasing Lady Lunafreya's planned wedding dress, you frown as you try to come up with a way to reach the Tenebraean Oracle.

A square at the end of the promenade has tables laid out under a pavilion, hosting a small cafe. You duck out of the rain, taking off your coat and giving it a little shake to dry it. Noticing you're being watched, you lift your gaze to see a young blonde man stuffing a cookie in his mouth and gawking at you. _I know I look nice, but have some manners..._

Taking another look at the table he's sitting at, you clock who's keeping him company. _The prince._ You freeze, debating wether or not you should introduce yourself, understanding he must be here to meet up with Lady Lunafreya.

"May we help you with something?" A polite voice asks from the table.

Realizing you've been staring, you snap out of your bubble, turning to the man with glasses, who posed the question.

"Uh... yes..." you smile.

The prince is looking at you with a curious expression, the big tattooed man next to him doesn't seem that interested.

"Oh?" the man responds, slightly surprised. "Well, in that case, what is the matter at hand?"

"I, I'm..." _Get it together. This could be your only chance._ You rub your brow, trying to focus.

"It's prince Noctis, isn't it?" you continue, worrying you're being a bit too forward. "I'm... I was part of the Kingsglaive."

"Cool," the blonde one drops his cookie-holding hand from his mouth.

"You were?" The prince is immediately interested.

"Yes..."

"Did you know my father?"

"No," you shake your head, "I didn't have the chance to advance in the service. But I knew several good men and women in the Glaive. It's a real shame what has happened to our kingdom." _Our..._ you can almost hear Ardyn's mocking voice in your ear. _Not yours._

"Please," the speckled man gets up, pulling a chair from a table nearby. "Take a seat."

You thank him and sit down with the others.

"How did you manage to get out of the city and all the way here?" the prince asks.

"Well," you start, considering your words carefully, "I had some help along the way. In fact, I'm here in the hopes of seeing the Oracle. It's a matter of importance, I desperately need to meet her."

"That makes two of us," the prince replies solemnly, sipping his drink.

"Your highness has not been able to see her?"

"No," he shakes his head. You feel disappointed. All your efforts seem to lead to dead ends.

"But we will!" the blonde interjects enthusiastically.

"Indeed, that is the plan," the polite man agrees.

"Why don't you offer the lady a drink?" the tattooed man nudges the prince with his elbow.

"Oh, yeah of course. Would you like something?"

"A warm tea would be amazing," you respond with a big smile.

As soon as the cup arrives, you wrap your fingers around the warm porcelain, enjoying the cozy feeling that instantly feels relaxing.

The prince introduces his entourage, and explains how their journey has turned from a road trip to a wedding, to a political mission. You do your best to pretend you know nothing about the Empire, or the prophecies. The four turn out to be a charming bunch, gladly entertaining you and keeping you company.

Ignis enquires why you're dressed so formal, and you make up a story about how your cousin had a fancy birthday party, that you've just left. You retell your own story in turn, leaving out any details about your involvement with the Chancellor. Noctis offers to take you to Lady Lunafreya as soon as they have established that she's safe, and you gladly accept the help.

You exchange stories of your travels, laugh at their silly jokes, and talk about what you know about the lore of Eos. Finally, Noctis reveals the reason for the Oracle being in Altissia; to forge a covenant with the Hydraean.

"A covenant?" you feel your chest tighten upon hearing the word.

"Yes, the Oracle awakens the Hydraean in an attempt to forge a covenant," he repeats.

"How does the Oracle do that?"

"I... don't know," he admits.

"We will find out tomorrow," Gladiolus grunts. "Speaking of which, it's getting late. I wanna hit the sack."

"Oh, by all means," you agree. "I don't want to hold you."

"Shall we see the lady to her residence, Noct?" Ignis asks, as you all get up from the table.

"Please, I don't want to trouble you," you insist, not wanting the prince to follow you to the Imperial Residence.

"No trouble," Noctis responds. "We'll walk you home."

Feeling like turning the offer down from a prince would be too rude, you accept reluctantly, wondering if you need to take them to a random place somewhere in the city.

"How well do you know Altissia?" you ask in passing.

"Not at all," Noctis confesses. _What a relief._

The residence is less than a ten-minute walk away, and you stop a good distance from the entrance as you reach the building, turning to Noctis and his friends.

"I was so lucky to run into you," you tell them. "I eagerly wait for your update tomorrow."

"I would stay somewhere safe tomorrow," the prince advises. "Might get ugly."

"I will," you promise. "Thanks for seeing me home."

Looking at the prince, you feel a sudden sadness weighing on your chest. He seems so young, so sweet, his goofy smile so optimistic, yet you know in your gut the outcome won't be pleasant for him. You want to encourage, almost to comfort him. Following your instinct, you step forward and give the prince a warm, friendly embrace.

"Thank you," you sigh. Though surprised, the prince gives you a little hug, patting you on the back.

"Uh... you're welcome," he responds.

You step back, and give a big smile to the trio standing behind Noctis. Waving your hand, you thank them and wish them good night, hoping they would turn and walk away. They all wave and smile in response, but remain stood in position.

Biting your lip, you walk backward, smiling and waving, until you reach the door. The four stand still, wanting to see you enter the building safely. _Damn you guys..._ You approach the double doors, and open them, finally hearing the group behind you slowly turning to leave.

"Pretty snazzy place she's staying at, huh?" you hear Prompto observe.

"Indeed..." Ignis agrees.

You breathe out a deep sigh of relief as you enter the reception room, removing your heels that have made your feet ache for the last few hours. Quietly walking on the soft carpet, you pass the ballroom where the event was being held earlier. Peeking in, you see an empty room with only two guests remaining; an older man leaning on a table, quite visibly drunk, talking loudly to a younger suited man, about magitek engines.

Continuing your way up the stairs, you start to feel nervous at the thought of encountering Ardyn. Reminding yourself he hardly ever spends the night in his room, you wonder if he's already left the residence.

Arriving at the room, you realize you don't have a key. You place your hand on the door knob, and turn it gently. The door opens. You enter, turning on the light, dropping the coat and shoes on the floor as you close the door behind you.

"The prince, is it?"

You jump at the sound of his voice. Turning around, you see Ardyn stood at the window, looking out.

"You scared me."

"I have to admit, my dear, I am a bit hurt. That you would rather spend your evening with the young prince..."  
  
"Oh..." you realize he saw it all. "I ran into him outside. They were nice enough to buy me a tea..."  
  
"Do I not buy you enough things?" he asks wryly, turning to look at you with that hypnotizing gaze.

"Come on... I just needed some fresh air," you confess.

He approaches you slowly. "But the company of the king-to-be does not come without a cost. I'm worried about what information you have given," he starts, removing his gloves, keeping his eyes on you. "I'm worried about what stories they have told you." He stops a few feet away, in front of you.

"Nothing," you respond. "Nothing of importance."

You stand bare foot, in your silk dress, facing him, keeping your posture strong, trying to engage his intense stare without showing any hesitation.

"Perhaps you are thinking of turning against me?"

"I'm not..." you try to protest.

"Take off your underwear," he orders, interrupting you.

"What?" Your response is genuinely confounded.

"I'm going to need some proof to back that statement," he continues. "Remove," he lifts his hand, pointing his fingers at your abdomen, "your underwear."

Despite the distance, you can almost feel his touch burning on your skin with intense heat. Following his command would go against all the principles you've established about asserting your own will, yet the mere thought of what he's implying makes your knees wobble. _You devil, you handsome bastard._ You grin back at him.

"Fine."

Rolling up the brim of your dress, you reach under for your panties, pulling them down with the hem, letting them drop to the floor. Pushing them forward with your foot, you wait for his reaction.

"Is that enough proof?"

"Hardly." He tilts his head. "Lean against the window."

"Why?"

"Do as you're told," he presses. "No questions."

Moving to the window, you lean against the ledge, facing the room. He twirls his finger in the air. "Turn around."

Following his order, you turn around, placing your hands on the window sill, looking down at the rainy street.

He moves behind you, very gently placing his palms on your hips.

"See, I was worried about where you'd gone," he whispers in your ear, softly. "I waited patiently, looking out the window, only to see you return with the prince." His fingers grab your dress, slowly starting to pull the hem upwards.

"You should know, you're not allowed to play with him." He gathers the brim of your dress to your waist, sliding his right hand down the back of your thigh, then very softly, up to your bottom.

"You won't be doing that again, will you?"

You gasp at the sensation of his touch on your sensitive skin.

"No..."

Pure shock shoots through your body as the sudden, loud slapping sound echoes through the room, followed by a sharp, painful tingling sensation on your right bum cheek.

"I didn't hear you," his words are demanding. You draw a sharp breath to answer him again, but before you manage to utter a sound, another strike lands on your bare skin, this time harder, making you cry out in pain. He grips your dress tighter around your waist, forcing you to lean forward on the window ledge.

"Come again?"

"No!" you shout, still recovering from the sharp sensation.

"I beg your pardon my dear," he raises his voice, as if calling at you from across the room, "Who gave you all the power you now possess?"

 _Power?_ Confused by his proposal, you take too long to come up with an answer. A third blow, this time right in the middle of your bottom. He doesn't hold back with the might of your punishment

"Fuck!" you yell in response, wincing at the pain.

"Who are you loyal to?" he roars.

"You!" you respond instantly, fearing the consequences of being too slow.

"Really? I seem to remember you wanting to be cleansed of the pact we made..."

"No!" you cry out, in vain, as the fourth strike lands on your behind, stinging so intensely you worry you might be bleeding.

"Did you change your mind?" he mocks you, knowing full well you're determined to escape the destiny he's thrown on you.

"Yes."  
"Once more, please," the fifth and sixth blows follow, making you fall forward on the window sill, trying to escape his wrath to no avail.

"Yes!" you cry out, "Yes!"

An eerie moment of silence follows, as you quiver from the sheer adrenaline rush, trying to anticipate if another strike will come at you.

"My darling..." he sighs quietly. You feel his fingers run across your burning skin, the soft touch still causing pain against the irritated area. "I've left a mark..."

He drops to his knees, and you feel his lips kiss you where the tingling still remains. Closing your eyes, you try to wish the pain away. His kisses trace along your bum, softly caressing your burning skin, until they reach the most sensitive part of your anatomy. Pausing there, he parts your legs wider, tenderly blowing against your skin. The cool air feels like heaven and you sigh in relief as the pleasant sensation takes over the burn.

"You don't seem to know..." he starts, stopping mid sentence, bringing his lips against the back of your labia. His tongue slides in between your legs, making you moan instantly.

"What?" you gasp, pushing yourself against his warm mouth. "Know what?"  
  
"The power you hold over me," he replies, pushing his tongue against you once more, massaging you from behind. You're more than ready to have him, your body betraying you, as you know he knows the state of your arousal.

"You dirty little thing," he smirks, lifting himself up.

With one smooth move, he spins you around and pushes you against the window.

You hear him open his trousers, yet you both remain clothed while he readies himself, taking the position between your legs, pulling your hips closer to the edge, and to him.

He enters you and your eyes widen as you're reminded of his generous size. The first thrust is slow, gradually pushing deeper and splitting you open as you relax to let him all the way in. You stare at him with intense need, and his eyes gaze back at you with burning intention.

He pulls out, and enters you again with a powerful thrust, pulling out and shoving himself into you again, almost painfully hard. Your need for this man is unreal. You gasp for air with every move, your eyes locked as he shows you who's in control. The cool window pressing against your back, you hear people pass by on the street, but don't want to stop what you've started. His pace grows faster, every move more asserting, firm and deep, as he keeps his gaze on you, wanting to see your face as he possesses you.

The familiar heat builds up again inside your body, the burning becoming more glaring, as you push yourself against him as hard as you can.

"I'm burning," you sigh, looking at him for an explanation.

"Let the fire in," he urges you, pushing his lips against yours, fucking you almost unbearably hard, making your whole being tremble at the sensation.

Feeling an agonizing mixture of pleasure and pain, you look around. The supernatural fire is back, the flames growing higher, engulfing everything, swallowing the room and the two of you in the inferno.

You wrap yourself around his body, as tight as you can, as he angrily pushes deep inside you, the fire burning in your loins, finally combusting and erupting, making everything in your field of vision turn to a blurry, burning blend of orange and white. Your body burning to ash, diminishing, disappearing, until there is nothing left but darkness.

Darkness.

Cool, soft, pleasant darkness.

You feel your breath return to your body. Slowly opening your eyes, you see Ardyn pushed against you, his face buried in your neck, still, silent, waiting.

A strange, overwhelming sensation of calm and serenity spreads all over you, the same feeling you experienced in the hotel back in Lestallum. Everything seems to be slow motion, every visual detail in the room stands out, every movement seems to take forever, yet feels completely effortless.

Ardyn pulls back, slowly, looking at you with a gentle, pained expression. He falls on his knees in front of you, staring up at you as if asking for mercy. You bring your hand to his cheek.

"My angel..." he whispers. You smile at him, finding his sadness perplexing. Everything feels good, pleasant. Serene.

"It's so inconvenient that you found me now," he continues, his gaze dropping to the floor.

"Why?" you brush his cheek, brush his hair.

"Are you not aware of what the Oracle must do?" he continues, avoiding your gaze.

"Yes," you nod, "To commune with the gods... to inspire her king."

"And how will she do that?"

You pause, trying to think of an answer. Laughing, you reply without worrying too much.

"I don't know that yet. I will figure it out."

He lifts his gaze, still looking pained, studying your face.

"Do you not know what awaits me? What I've longed for, for eternity..."

You shake your head, still brushing his cheek, loving the moment of tenderness he's allowing you.

"And the same fate must befall the Oracle," he concludes, turning away, gently taking your hand and pushing it back in your lap.

"It's okay," you reassure him. "I don't want to be purged. I want to see where this path will take me." In the blissful afterglow of the moment, you can't begin to grasp why he seems so troubled.  
  
Getting up, he lifts you down from the window ledge, gently placing you on your feet. For a moment, you stand there facing each other, both looking down at the floor. Getting drowsy, you feel sleep washing over you, demanding you to lay down for the night. You fall forward, your head resting against his chest, and closing your eyes, you breathe in his scent. Feeling him lift you up in his arms, before your body touches the soft bed, you've already given in to deep sleep.


	9. Callings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying so hard to keep it canon. Let's hope future DLC's don't completely screw me over XP

 

Taking a sip of the freshly squeezed orange juice, you smile at the servant.

“It’s wonderful, thank you.”

“If there’s anything else you want, don’t hesitate to call, my lady,” the young man responds with a little bow. “The Chancellor has instructed to make sure you have everything you might need.”

“I’m quite happy with this,” you reply, taking a look at the breakfast spread the servant has brought in, big enough for four people. It has everything from pastries to porridge, from scrambled eggs to fruit salad. _Over-compensating a little, are we Ardyn?_

“I shall leave you to enjoy your morning,” the man bows again, about to leave.

“Actually,” you twig, “Did the Chancellor leave any word on where to find him? Any message for me?”

The servant looks up at the ceiling, scratching his head. “I don’t think so, my lady. But as the Covenant is being forged today and Lady Lunafreya is giving a speech, I would presume he’d be headed there with…” he pauses mid-sentence, looking guilty.

“Who?” you push.

“I’m afraid I mis-spoke, my lady. It’s probably classified information…”

“Really?” you cross your arms. “And do you know who I am?”

“W-well,” the young man starts, “I am aware your ladyship is of very high importance…”

“Then don’t you think I’m allowed that information?”

“I don’t think it’s down to the servants to disclose it, my lady.”

You roll your eyes, picking up a piece of green apple from the tray. “Okay, how much?”

Putting the piece in your mouth, you nod at the young man, expecting him to give a price.

“No, my lady…”

“Do you want to sit down and have breakfast? We could just have a little chat and you could tell me by accident,” you try.

“I’m not allowed, my lady.”

“But you think the Chancellor will be attending Lady Lunafreya’s speech?”

“I-I can’t say any more,” the servant bows apologetically, backing up to the door.

“Is he headed there with captain Highwind?” you pester him as he reaches his hand behind his back and opens the door.

“I’m sorry my lady. Why don’t you go and see the speech? I can’t help you any more…” With a few more nervous bows, the young man disappears behind the door, gently closing it behind him.

You turn to the breakfast spread, devouring a few more pieces of fruit as you try to form a strategy. You woke up alone, as usual, and as soon as you’d managed to get out of the shower, the young servant appeared at the door with the ridiculous buffet. No sign of Ardyn.

You look at the large unmade bed. It’s obvious you slept there alone. The silk dress is hanging off the edge of the bed. You noticed upon waking that it’s hem had been torn so badly, all the way up to the waist, that probably won’t be wearing it anymore. You switch on the television and flick through a few channels, stopping as you see the docks of Altissia appear with the live-logo in the upper corner. Picking up a plate from the breakfast spread, you sit down in the forest green armchair. The picture shifts to the Ministerial Palace, with a large crowd gathered outside, the commentator explaining Lady Lunafreya would be appearing soon.

_Damn. I have to be there._ Dropping the plate back on the table, you jump out of the chair, running to your bag to find some clothes. Lady Lunafreya approaches the podium as you hastily find a pair of clean underwear. The camera zooms in at her face, her expression serious, even sorrowful, a stark contrast to how she was the night you met her in Insomnia.

Finding the clean clothes you’re after, you hastily pull them on backwards as your heart rate increases. _I have to be there._ Pulling your boot on with one hand and trying to adjust your clothes with the other, you fall back on the bed as you try to listen to what the Oracle is saying.

“ _…the shadows shall loom ever longer, until all succumbs to the darkness.”_

You look around for your other boot, cursing the large room and your own messiness as you run around aimlessly.

“ _The ashes of Lucis… a dream of peace twisted into a nightmare of death and destruction…”_

You shove your foot into the other boot, grabbing your camera from the top of the table and hurrying to the door.

“ _…by the stars that light the heavens above, our world will be delivered from the perils of the dark…”_

You pause, your hand on the doorknob. Her words weigh heavy on your heart. Suddenly everything Ardyn has told you doesn’t seem so unbelievable. _Darkness… destruction…_ You’ve been pushing it aside, not sure if he’s been honest or playing with you, wilfully ignorant in your infatuation with him.

Looking down at your hands, as if trying to see if they’re tainted, your heart starts to race. _He said I need to be purged._

“What am I still doing here?!” you cry out loud, running out the door and down the corridor as fast as you can.

 

 

 

The gondola takes it’s sweet time riding down the narrow waterway, and you jump out as soon as it’s a remotely safe distance from the pier. Running down the steps towards the square, you see people dispersing in every direction in a hurry. Looking up at the podium in the distance, you see the Oracle has already left.

“Hey lady, you better make it somewhere safe!” a passing man with a little girl on his arm calls at you, seeing you walk in the opposite direction of the crowd. You stop to look around. At the end of the square, past the large pier, you see a ledge leading to the sea, with a large circular arch surrounding it. A figure in white approaches the ledge with slow, steady steps.

“The Oracle is going to address the Hydraean!” the passing people hasten their pace, trying to get as far as possible, as fast as possible.

_The Oracle._ You can’t help but stare at Lady Lunafreya, striking down her spear, spreading her arms at the ocean. All this time Ardyn has been calling you by that title, yet you know nothing of what being an Oracle means. _To commune with the Gods, to inspire the King_ , you remember. _How?_ He has thrown a new destiny upon you, without giving any instructions. So far your only job has been to stay by his side, but out of his way.

Hearing someone call your name, you look around and see a familiar face approach you, away from the escaping crowd.

“Hurry!” he calls.

“Ignis, I’m so glad to see you!” you respond, running to him, at the same time realizing the full extent of your distress.

“Are you alright? You look upset,” he puts his hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t know…” you respond turning to look at Lady Lunafreya.

“You must get away from here, it’s not safe,” he ushers, gently tugging you by the arm, “Come with me!”

“No…”

He seems utterly perplexed, pushing up his glasses and crossing his arms.

“Please,” he continues, “It’s for your own good. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. It’s my responsibility to clear the area.”

“No,” you repeat, stepping away from him, giving him a confused smile. “I’m tired of being told what to do.”

Leaving Ignis calling after you, you turn and run, as fast as you can towards the water. The earth shakes under your feet and a sleet of salty rain flies against your face, making you stop in your tracks. You look up, seeing a colossal entity emerge from the ocean, towering above all the buildings, with wings the size of the square itself.

“The Hydraean…” you whisper. Lifting your camera with trembling hands, you remove the lens cover and aim at the Astral. Without wasting any time, you shoot as many times as you can.

The serpent opens her mouth, an otherworldly noise of a thousand magitek engines shrieks across the seafront, and you fall on your knees, nearly dropping your camera. The voice is threatening and unbearably loud, but as it echoes through the empty square, you hear the words in your mind;

“ _This wretched pile of bone and flesh, ignorant of that which governs All, comes to requisition the might of the Goddess?”_

Slowly, you lift back up to your feet, looking up at the Hydraean.

“ _What does a lowly, ephemeral speck know of All Creation?”_

The Hydraean swings it’s head at Lady Lunafreya on the ledge, crushing the arch, making the stone crumble to the sea. You gasp for air as you aim your camera again. _I’m not ready for this, this can’t be real._

You only manage to take one more picture, before a magitek engine flies directly into the shot. Running aside, you aim again, only to realize the vehicle is headed directly at you. Turning on your heels, you try to make a run for the opposite side of the square, but hearing the ship make a landing behind you, within seconds you’re surrounded by Imperial gunmen. Freezing, you lift up your arms.

“I’m only taking pictures!” you yell out, cautiously turning around to face the ship.

One of the soldiers approaches you aggressively, shoving his shotgun against your back, nudging you to move along quicker. Biting your lower lip, you do as instructed, holding up your arms,  trying your best to stay brave, consciously slowing down your breath to stop yourself from hyperventilating. Stepping on the ramp, you look up to see a pair of golden eyes looking at you sternly.

You instantly drop your arms. “What’s the big idea, scaring me to death like this?!”

“Get in,” Ardyn hisses, walking inside the ship. The gunmen hurry up with you as the ramp is lifted and the vehicle takes up to the sky, rising above the Hydraean.

You stand by the window, next to Ardyn, holding your hands on your temples as you see the Astral below you, making another attack at Lady Lunafreya.

“I don’t believe I asked you to leave the residence,” he says dryly, without looking at you.

“Did you expect me to just watch TV and eat breakfast all day?” you respond, turning to look at the soldiers who have orderly taken their seats.

“They can’t understand you,” he says, keeping his eyes on the Hydraean.

“Why?”

“They’re MT’s, my dear. Daemons in a metal suit.”

You cover your eyes with your right hand, rubbing your forehead. “Deamons… “

The magitek engine shakes with the Hydraen’s voice rocking the metallic hull.

“ _Heaven and Earth, High and Deep, Birth and Return…”_ A tide builds up behind the Astral, creating a gigantic vortex of a tidal wave around the Leviathan, enclosing the ship inside.

“Why are you here?” you insist, grabbing Ardyn’s arm. He turns to look at you, his expression cold.

In the corner of your eye, you see the serpent plunge into the sea, while myriad watery imitations of itself fly around the vortex, wreaking havoc on the poor town.

“I should be the one asking that question,” he responds wryly. “You have no reason to see this destruction take place.”

“I wanted to see with my own eyes,” you explain, “Lady Lunafreya, the Hydraean… Is this the job of the Oracle? To try and convince angry Gods to offer their pity?”

His eyes brighten as he all of a sudden seems fascinated by what you’re saying.

“You understand…” he smiles.

“No I don’t!” you respond.

“The Astrals. You can hear their words in your mind, can’t you?”  
“Yes…”

“Well, my darling…” he takes your hand, giving it a little brush with his thumb, “I’m sorry it had to come to this.”

Before you have a chance to ask, you feel a cold steel lock around your wrist. He swiftly pulls you along and locks the other end on a seat next to an unresponsive MT.

“You’re handcuffing me?!” you shout at him, trying to pull your wrist free, but soon discovering it’s more painful than it is effective.

“Be a good girl, take a seat,” he extends his arm. The ship shakes in the storm, and starts to descend slowly. Ardyn approaches the edge of the ramp, and as it touches on the ground below, leaves you sitting in the middle of the Imperial soldiers as he walks out and the ramp pulls back.

You stand up, trying to see down below, but it’s too far from your seat. Taking a deep breath, you try to make your hand as small as possible, seeing if you could slip it through the steel bracelet. _No use._

You sit still and try to listen for any clues of what’s going on outside the ship, but the noise of the storm, the engine and the Hydraean roaring are too much to make out anything comprehensive.

The soldiers sit, motionless, as if asleep. You lift your hand and very carefully touch the one right next to you. The armor is smooth and surprisingly warm. You give the soldier’s chin a little tap with your finger, knocking to see if anyone’s home. The MT doesn’t move.

The ship sways as it slides closer to the ground, and Ardyn’s boot hitting the ramp almost gives you a heart attack. You turn around instantly, and see the ramp close behind him, as the ship ascends once more.

“What’s going on?” you demand. “Are you helping Lady Lunafreya tame the Hydraean? Tell me what’s going on!”

“Oh no, I’m afraid she’s beyond help. You see, she’s been stabbed.”

He throws something at your feet, the sound of the object making a metallic clank. You reach over in your seat to see the floor. _A dagger._

“What? How?” 

_By who?_ “By you?!”

The Hydraean roars and the whole vessel shakes, accelerating it’s speed and taking more distance to the Astral.

“How could you? Why? Answer me!” you stand up, leaning as far as you can with your hand cuffed.

“What do you know? About anything?!” he roars, his face turning pale, his eyes glowing like fireflies in the night, with black liquid pouring out of the corners, down his cheeks.

Covering your mouth in shock, you fall back in your seat.

For a moment, you sit still, contemplating the situation.

“Please, is she alive?” you whisper.

Ardyn stops to look at you, his eerie foreign face slowly fading back to normal. You stare back at him, your lip quivering with sheer exhaustion and worry. He approaches you very slowly, and stopping right in front, looks down at you with pity.

“Look at you,” he murmurs in his low voice. “What were you thinking.”

Gently, he drops down to one knee, taking your wrist and swiftly unlocking the cuff. Rubbing on where the metal has left a little mark from all the tugging, he gazes at you from under his brow.

“It had to be done.”

“Why?” you ask quietly. “Please, why?”

“What is the calling of the Oracle?” he asks, posing the question as if it’s an exam.

“To commune with the Gods… to inspire the King,” you repeat. Taking your hand to his lips, he nods, pressing his lips against your wrist.

“My dear, there is so much you still need to know,” he whispers, pressing another kiss inside your palm.

“Is that… my destiny, too?” you ask hesitantly, feeling his warm breath against your hand,  trying your best to not be hypnotised by his closeness once again.

He pulls you forward, leaning closer, placing his lips right under  your chin, his touch making your body grow weak, begging to surrender. Tracing slow kisses on your neck, he stops above your collar bone, pushing his tongue against your skin, circling around like a serpent.

You force yourself to snap out of it, pushing him away. “No.”

He glances around at the MT’s, then tries to lean in again to kiss your neck. “They won’t tell,” he grins. “Don’t deny me, my darling. Don’t you want to inspire your King?”

Pulling you closer from your waist, he looks at you the way he does, with determination and desire, his gaze telling you he will get what he wants.

“No,” you repeat once more, pushing him as hard as you can, making him fall back, only slightly.

“Tell me what my calling is,” you insist, breathing heavy, tired of resisting him.

He lets out a surprised laugh.

“My darling, how can you be so cruel? Do you know what it does to a man, to be alone for centuries, to be denied the closeness of another? To be left alone with the darkness, to live and to never die, like I have…”

Leaning back on his arm, he shakes his head and his finger at you. “Being the Oracle of the Infernian, my dear, I should’ve known you have a cunning nature. Don’t torment me,” he sits up, coming on to his knees again, closer to you, pushing your back against the seat.

“Your calling brought you here. This is your calling. And your covenant, my sweet priestess,” he laughs, “We forge the covenant every night. Every time we merge as one, you vow your loyalty to your master. And one day…” he places his thumb on your lower lip, rubbing it gently.

“One day you shall prove your loyalty, just like the faithful Lady Lunafreya has done today.”

You know the meaning of those words. You know, and yet you can’t turn away; you don’t even know how to say no to him, you’re unable. You don’t want to. He pushes his lips against yours, this time you let him, you want him.

Anything to distract from this confusion, anything to bring that serenity, that peace in your soul again. You wrap your arms around him, and give in to the slowly growing flame again.

“Don’t take it lightly,” he whispers as he slides his hands under your clothes, “I shall remain at your service, until the end.”


	10. Hand of a King, Heart of a King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very much NSFW.

**Chapter 10: Hand of a King, Heart of a King**

The smell of salty sea air and the deafening cries of the Leviathan grow slowly distant, as the steady, soothing hum of the engine becomes the only noise surrounding you, blocking away the rest of the world.

Your fingers tangle with the wine-coloured hair as you thirst for every drop of the sin, intoxicated by the heat, tongue pushing against tongue, your chest heaving as fingers slide inside you. _I want more._ How could such a monster of a man be so gentle, so delicate and skilful in the manner he handles you? _I want more._ He rubs you with his thumb as his fingers curl inside you, drawing all of your attention to that one spot, your whole being into this one moment as it intensifies.

You sigh and moan into his mouth and he grins with pleasure, flames dancing in his eyes as he plays your body like a violin. _I want more..._

“My little darling, why would you ever resist it when you know it would be so good,” he sings into your ear as you slowly dance along with his every move. “Do I not give you pleasure?”

“Yes...” you lean your head against the lifeless MT sitting next to you, wincing with pleasure.  
  
He pulls his hand back, leaving his fingers at the entrance, only slightly touching your skin.

“But you told me 'no'...” his piercing gaze locked on you, he smirks at your frustration.

“No, please,” you mumble, leaning forward to kiss him. His hands grip your wrists softly, and taking them above your head, you feel the cold steel against your skin again, as you hear a little lock click. A moment of nervousness takes over as you ralize you can't bring your hands down, and he can see it all over your face.

“Shh, my darling,” he brushes your cheek, “You need to learn not to doubt me.” His expression is gentle, he looks at you like hunter at a helpless fawn that has only lost it's mother.

“Let this be a little exercise in trust.”

Lowering himself, he pushes your knees far apart, bringing his lips to softly kiss where his fingers had teased you.

“So sweet, my dirty little thing.”

His tongue slides up, painfully slowly, lapping up all your arousal. You bang your head back against the back of the seat. He stops, lifting his gaze to look at you.

“Why do you defy me? Why do you insist on fighting your destiny?”

You glance down, anxiously waiting for his hot breath to come back, closer. He stays away, waiting for your response.

“I don't know...” you sigh, not knowing what he expects you to say. He has left you aching, painfully close, your mind blurred by the yearning for the ultimate pleasure only he can deliver.

“Neither do I...” he responds, shaking his head, coming back closer, a little closer, until his devilish tongue brushes you again, moving up and down, barely even making contact. You tremble with the sensation, grabbing the chains of the cuffs above your head, trying to push yourself nearer to him, but he immediately pulls away.

“That's very naughty of you,” he chastens, “I thought I told you to trust me.”

“I'm sorry,” you whimper, adjusting yourself back in the seat. “I'll do anything. Please, I'll do anything...”

He stares at you, relishing the words you coming out of your mouth. “That's what you keep saying – ” he protests.

“Let me please you,” you interrupt, pulling your knees back together. Even the simple movement of your thighs sends waves of pleasure across your body. You're burning.

“Come here, please.”

He grins. “You're wonderful...”  
His eyes travel down to the little wet patch you’ve left on the edge of the seat.

“Please,” you lean forward, the tiny amount your cuffs allow you, “Let me give you pleasure.”  
  
“You are, my dear,” he raises his hands in a delighted gesture. “Hearing you say those words is a reward in itself. I have waited for you so long...” he looks away, pausing for a moment, remembering something. A flash of worry, or perhaps sorrow washes over him, only for a split second, before his burning eyes return to you again. “I can't lose you.”

The blend of emotions he displays in such a short instant leaves you lost for words. You want to despise him, to hate him, you fear him, you question everything he says, and yet in that moment, you feel a sharp pain in your chest you can't quite understand. You remember the scar he showed you the first time you gave your body to him, and the same old feeling of wanting to be good to him, to help him tugs at your heart.

“Ardyn...”

His amber gaze lights up as you speak his name.

“Please let me...”

He stands up, slowly approaching you. You look up at him, biting your lip gently.

“Let me please you. Le me taste you.”

He doesn't hesitate any longer, and you open your mouth, pushing your tongue out as he brings his member to touch your lips. Your tongue circles around the tip a few times, gently, making it wet before you slowly slide him inside your mouth, softly wrapping your lips around him.

He lets out a sharp breath as you tease your mouth around him, keeping your tongue soft against his shaft.

“You little devil...” he chuckles. You push him deeper inside your mouth, struggling with his size, and a low moan escapes him. Moving your head back, you pull your lips away, stopping to lick the tip of his erection. He rests his arm on the MT to keep his balance.

You look up, grinning at him. This is the first time you've ever felt like you have him under your  control. You push your tongue against the tip again, licking hungrily, sucking on it like a lollipop. He thrusts his hips in time with you.

“You don't know what you do to me,” he groans as you take all of him inside your mouth again, gliding your lips down slowly. A tiny drizzle of salty liquid hits your tongue, and you squeeze your legs together as, more than anything, you want him to be inside you. Letting out a small sigh, fastening your pace, you suck on him, up and down as he struggles to stay up, moaning your name as he slowly unravels, the warm liquid gushing into your mouth, dripping down your chin and down your shirt.

He flinches and slowly pulls away, swiftly tucking himself inside his trousers as he leans on the MT.

“My darling,” he laughs, “My sweet little thing. You took me by surprise.”

You lick your lips, looking up at him, awaiting your reward.

“I'm so sorry I kept you waiting,” he smirks,  steadily getting back on his feet. “Look at the mess you made...”

Kneeling down once more, he leans in to kiss you passionately as you part your knees, pushing yourself against him. His fingers quickly find their way back inside you, resuming what they started earlier, rubbing and fucking you at the same time, almost instantly making you shudder with pleasure. Unable to control yourself, you clench your legs around his hand, burying your face into his shoulder, trembling violently, wailing something incomprehensible as the blaze bursts through your body.

“There we go,” he whispers into your ear, planting a soft kiss on your temple as your breath calms down. Once more the unnatural calm, the blissful afterglow spreads through your body. You draw back slowly, leaning your head against the metallic seat, as Ardyn gets up and carefully frees you from the handcuffs, dropping them on the floor next to you.

You turn your head to look at the MT, still frozen, idly staring ahead.

“Daemons...” you let our quietly, as you pull up your underwear and lazily tidy up your garments.

Your eyes travel to Ardyn, standing at the wide window, gazing into the distance.

“What happened?” you ask. Your own voice sounds strange coming out, making you chuckle to yourself.

“The Prince has forged the covenant,” he responds, a gentle wind playing with his hair as he pushes down his fedora to cover it. “Three more to go.”

 

-

 

The doors to the Imperial Manor fly open as the Chancellor of Niflheim joyfully waltzes into the empty building. You follow closely behind him, browsing through the photographs on your camera that's hanging around your neck, still dizzy from the ecstatic high.

“Watch where you're going my dear,” he advises, just as you trip over a wrinkled mat in the hallway, barely managing to stay on your feet.

“Thanks...”

You hear Ardyn's melodic voice echoing through the walls as he enters the ballroom.

“Ah, what a pleasure to see you again, lady Claustra! I tip my hat to you, dear sir. But of course, what ever your highness desires! Commander Fleuret, the magitek infantry is at your disposal!”

You pause to watch in the doorway as he wanders around the parquet floor, engaging in little imaginary conversations.

“All their wishes have been seen to,” he sings, turning to you, spreading his arms wide. “And tell me, my dear, where are they now, those deranged fools?”

Pursing your lips, you shake your head, giving him a little shrug.

Spotting a bucket of untouched champagne bottles left from the night before, he picks up one, popping it open as he approaches an antique gramophone in the corner of the room.

“I tell you where, my dear,” he continues, choosing a record from a shelf underneath the gramophone. Lifting up his choice, he puts it on the disc carefully, picking up the needle of the player.

“They are all on their way – ”

Gently, he lets it down to touch the record.

“ – to hell.”

Turning around, he lifts up the champagne bottle as the music begins to flow out of the beautiful old machine. Taking a sip, he crosses the room over to you.

“We must drink to that,” he declares, handing you the champagne. You let out a confused sigh, and bring the bottle to your lips. “Yeah, fuck it.”

You take a big gulp, getting a strange feeling it will be a long time before you'll have the chance to drink champagne again.

“Now my darling, may I?” Ardyn asks with a devious smile, giving you a gentlemanly bow.

Wiping your mouth with your hand, you place the bottle on the floor as you respond with a little nod.

“But of course.”

He takes your hand, bringing you on to the parquet, and turning you to face him, places his other hand gently on the small of your back. With the first step of the waltz, you glide across the floor, as he leads you effortlessly, swirling around the empty ballroom. The grandiose waltz guides your movement, as the violin tells a heartfelt story.

Your gaze locks with Ardyn, the golden glare fluctuating between familiarly eerie, and eerily familiar. Somehow you feel closer to him than you ever have, the gradual realization creeping up on you. _He needs me._

“You need me,” you let out unwittingly.

“When did I ever suggest otherwise, my love?” he responds, spinning your around, then catching you in his arms again. “Haven't I told you not to worry too much? You should enjoy life while you're young.”

You smile at his absurd remark. The more you think about it, the more ridiculous you find it all. Your life, completely overturned, replaced with the constant confusion of supposedly being someone of great significance. Bursting out laughing, you roll your head back, as Ardyn watches with great pleasure, the hollow room echoing with your uncontrollable laughter.

The needle skips on the record and jumps back on the track, repeating half a bar of the waltz, then skipping back again. Ardyn brings you to a halt, tipping his hat at you and marching to the gramophone. Picking up the record, he holds it up for a moment, giving it a little examination, before smashing it on the sharp corner of the table, making the vinyl split into little pieces.

“Alas, no more music,” he turns to you and pouts theatrically, walking back and wrapping his arm around your waist. “Time to go and pack your bags, dear,” he pushes you towards the door, nodding in passing: “Don't forget to pick up the bottle.”

“Where are we going?” Lifting the champagne, you hurry along, looking up at him as he takes you to the red carpet staircase.

“Where else but Gralea, the seat of the Empire,” he responds, offering his hand to help you up the stairs. Walking up the steps, you take another long sip of the champagne, breathing out slowly as you decide to let go of everything, to follow the current, where ever it may take you.

“To Gralea, then.”


	11. Into the Dark

**Chapter 11: Into the Dark**

The snow crunches under your boots as you walk up the steep hill towards a large wooden cabin in the outskirts of the Citadel, the pale ground providing some light amidst the darkness. You push yourself tighter against the tall, warm body you're sharing the long jacket with. Ardyn wraps his arm around your waist tighter, pulling you up lightly, guiding your steps. The hefty, calmly falling flakes of snow stick to your eyelashes, and you close your eyes briefly, knowing that you don't need to see where you're going, only follow.

Your arm firmly around him, your cold fingers look for shelter inside his trouser pocket. He lets out a gentle chuckle and you lift your gaze, meeting the softly smirking amber.

_I had no idea, back then..._

An elderly man dressed in a suit opens the heavy looking door.

“Welcome, sir, miss. Weren't expecting you so soon.”  
  
He takes the coat and gives it a shake outside, before hanging it up and pushing the door shut.

“The missus is making the bed upstairs, but everything else is ready. I've made a nice fire that'll warm you up. Is there anything you'd like right now?” He looks at you: “A nice warm drink perhaps?”

Smiling, you nod. “Thank you.” The man gives you a little bow and makes his way to the kitchen.

You take a look at the cabin, a vast room with huge rugs laid across the floor, several big armchairs, and a large fireplace at the back, a staircase that leads to what you guess to be the bedroom, and an open kitchen underneath.

“Little perks of working for the Empire,” Ardyn grins. “I hope this will suffice?”

“Of course...” you sigh. “For how long?”

“For now,” he responds, taking your hand. “Come by the fire. I can tell you're exhausted, you poor thing. All those things you've wanted to know, I'll share with you now.”

You take a seat opposite the fire, proceeding to take off your boots. Ardyn offers you a blanket that you gladly accept, tugging your knees in and wrapping yourself in the large, soft cover. The smell of hot cocoa drifts from the kitchen, and soon the elderly man brings over a warm cup of chocolatey comfort. You thank him asking for his name.

“It's Robert, miss. Me and the missus will be looking after you while you're here.”

Wrapping your fingers around the mug, you breathe in the pleasant scent.

“Just like when we were little,” you smile to yourself.

“Tell me,” you look up to see Ardyn observing you with a gentle gaze, sitting in the armchair opposite. “Tell me about that time, about your youth.”

His request perplexes you. You've spent so much time playing cat and mouse with this man, you didn't even consider that he barely knows anything about you. _Why now?_

“Umm...” you start, trying to think about something worthwhile to recount to him. “What would you like to know?”

“Anything.” The fire reflects in his eyes, making you feel like he sees right through you. “Talk to me about yourself.”

“Well...” you chuckle, taking a sip of the cocoa. Hesitantly, you tell him about how you used to fight with your cousin over who got to clean the pot when your grandma made you hot chocolate. Of course, cleaning meant using your finger to wipe up any remaining chocolate and then licking it off.

He smirks at the story, seemingly pleased. “Tell me more.”

It takes you a moment to feel comfortable talking about yourself to him, but after a few silly anecdotes, you find you're telling him everything; where you lived as a child, where you studied and what you wanted to be when you grow up. You tell him of your first love, slightly embarrassed, but he finds everything fascinating, only rarely interjecting with little questions to keep your narrative going. You tell him about the Kingsglaive entry examinations you took part in, and how badly you did.

“They must've really been desperate for new glaives,” you chuckle, “because I was the least capable of everyone there, and by some miracle they picked me.”

Robert approaches you apologetically, stopping in front of Ardyn.

“Sir, if there is nothing else, we will take our leave now as it's getting rather late. The bedroom is ready and there's some food in the refrigerator.”

“Very well,” he responds, “Thank you Robert. See you tomorrow at supper.”

The way he talks to his staff is so polite, so _normal_ it's almost uncanny; as if he was not a monster, as if he was but a mortal man.

Robert and his wife make their way out quietly, yet as the heavy door shuts with a dull thud, you're suddenly very aware that you're completely alone, in the middle of nowhere, with a man who you still can't figure out.

Your eyes meet and linger on each other, with a myriad of emotions fluttering in your chest, a thousand questions crashing through your mind.

“Ask me,” he utters in a low voice.

“I don't know where to begin,” you confess.

“Then why not at the beginning?” he suggests.

_At the beginning?_

You've been longing for this moment, hoping you would get a chance to demand all the answers, an opportunity to sort through all the confusion, to finally piece together the full story. And now, with him so earnestly offering you any answer you desire, you're worried, afraid, because in the back of your mind, you already know.

“Where were you? All those years...” you finally let out.

“Aha,” he raises his hand. “For a long time, I was imprisoned. Locked away, my thoughts my only company. A man can tolerate many ills, but himself.”

His expression turns sorrowful, his gaze avoiding yours. The warm glare of the fireplace makes his unruly hair appear vividly crimson, perhaps reflecting the hue of his inner turmoil.

“For many years after, I hid away in the shadows. For many years, I walked amongst the people. For many years more, I lived like a king. Anything you could dream of in your lifetime, I've lived it all, a thousand times over. All the while, waiting...” he leans forward, looking at you with a stern expression.

“Time has stood still, for centuries. When you only exist for the time a chosen soul will come forward, every life lost meanwhile; every friend expired, every lover perished becomes but dust in the palm of your hand.”

Your heart aches with every word, knowing he has had no choice. No escape, no relief.

“My darling,” he shakes his head, “Don't you dare shed those tears for me.”

Realizing the tears rolling down your cheek, you quickly wipe your eyes with your hand.

“Now is not the time for that kind of emotion. The tide has already turned, the Prince on his way to becoming the King, and you my dear, on your way to claim your place amongst the gods.”

You push your palm against your chest, as if to check your heart is still beating.

“How do I do that?”

“But my darling, you already know. By helping the Prince forge the final covenant. When the time is right, you shall commune with the Infernian.”

“How will I do that? And when?”

“Not for some time,” he grins, “But you've had quite a lot of practice...”

His devious smirk sends shivers down your spine.

“When the prophesy is fulfilled, what will happen to you? Or the Prince?” you continue.

“The world shall be purged of the night, but... a very similar fate awaits us both,” he responds.

“And... what will become of me?” you ask, hesitantly.

“You will become the Queen of the Pyre.”

Your eyes drift to the fireplace, and its gently dancing flames, playfully reaching up into the air. Anxiety creeps in and you jump out of the armchair, throwing your hands in the air.

“And what if I don't want that? What if I just want to go back to living my life?”

“My dear, it is far too late for that.”  
  
“I didn't ask for any of this!” you exclaim, nervously pacing in front of the fireplace. “Nobody asked me!”

Ardyn follows your movements for a moment, until finally reaching out for your hand. Making you pause, he gently pulls you closer to him.

“None of us did. We are all but pawns in the game of the Gods.”

You stare at him, wanting to protest. His gaze is so soft, so compassionate, that you realize he already knows how you feel, he already knows what you want to express, and he already knows the answers to any arguments against your fate.

Bringing your hand to his temple, you brush the hair back, breathing out slowly. Having his body near you has become the only solace for you recently. Despite being the source of all your confusion and all the pain, his touch alone and calm your soul. Only those eyes can read your mind, only those hands can soothe the aching.

He utters your name quietly and you climb into his lap, gazing deep into the golden glow. His arms wrap around you, bringing your bodies together. You push your lips against his brow and he closes his eyes, breathing you in, holding you tightly.

“If there is any abatement to this woeful life, then it is you,” he breathes into your neck.

Warm lips press against your skin; a soft kiss followed by another, lips grazing under your ear, on your cheek, against your lips. He holds you in his arms, a moment that you pray would last forever, a sanctuary where, for a brief time, you're protected.

Slightly parting your lips, you allow the kiss to deepen, cherishing his taste, his warmth, his intimacy. Inescapably, the heat grows greater the longer you're together, becoming almost uncomfortably intense. Forcing yourself to break the kiss, you grab your top and pull it off, throwing it on the floor. Helping him undo his vest, you remove it as swiftly as you can, followed by his tunic, that ends up in the same pile next to the chair.

Before long, you find yourself on the rug, the blaze from the fire blending with the fever your bodies are creating in the slow dance. His lips push against yours as he slides inside you, a pleasure  sweeter than you ever thought possible. The profound need you have for him can only be appeased momentarily before you're yearning for him to possess you again. He takes his time moving slowly out and back in again, gazing at you, drunk on the sounds you're making. Your fingers clasp his back, discovering rough lines of scar tissue amid the soft skin.

Your body quivers with the realization, an ancient pain you so desperately want to transform into pleasure. He moans words of passion into your ear as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, leaving no space between your bodies apart from the small distance he's creating with the slow thrusts. You feel yourself squeezing tighter around his girth, every move leaving you gasping for air.

Calling out his name as your climax pulsates through your body, you feel him reaching his release simultaneously, your bodies melting into one. Staring up at the ceiling, all you can see is an army of flames engulfing you, the fire combusting and instantly leaving you anaesthetised, rewarding you with the familiar tranquility you were  longing for.

Lying still with Ardyn wrapped around you, you close your eyes. From deep within the darkness, two glowing dots appear, burning like little flints in the distance.

_Do you beckon me, Priestess of the Pyre?_

You wince, opening your eyes wide. The chandelier hanging from the wooden ceiling sways gently, making a faint little jingle.

For a long while, you stay in each other's embrace, in total silence. You run your fingers along his back, softly grazing over the old wounds. You reflect on the things you told him earlier; all the dreams you had, all the plans you had made for the future. _None of that will come to pass._

After a long, dark night, a gentle glow floods into the cabin, a shy visitor asking for a permission to enter.

Ardyn pulls himself up, helping you to sitting. You observe his bare body as he turns around to find you a blanket, a man so perfect it's a travesty in the light of what he has become. _Why does it have to be like this?_

“Come, darling,” he says softly, wrapping the blanket around you and bringing you to the window. Over the snowy hills, a little red orb is wearily making its way above the mountain top.

“Sunrise...” you whisper.

Ardyn nods smiling, his eyes fixed on the determined little labourer in the horizon.

“I wanted you to behold it. It may be the last one we share.”


	12. Breath Of The Glacian

“I'm sick of waiting around!” you exclaim, giving the table a little kick, like a toddler having a tantrum. The small, cute cabin has become a prison, an indefinite punishment of isolation.

Robert shrugs, rolling his eyes.

“What can I do? The Chancellor has told me to keep you here, and keep you safe. You can talk to him yourself when he returns.”

“When?” you moan, leaning on your arm and rolling the empty coffee cup around. You've just finished your breakfast, another one faithfully prepared by Robert's wife Marta, but it's all the same to you. It might as well be the middle of the night. You haven't seen the sun for almost a week. You haven't been anywhere, and you haven't really even slept, two or three hours at a time at most. Maybe it's the darkness mixing up your rhythm, maybe it's the distance from him, but you're increasingly restless and bored.

You count the days – it's been six, maybe seven since he left to 'take care of important business' in Tenebrae. You're painfully aware that every time he has used that phrase, things had gotten considerably more complicated. You've imagined all the possible scenarios that might have taken place, and why it's taking him so long to return. Maybe something exciting is happening, and you're missing out.

“Robert please... there must be a way to Tenebrae?” you plead. “I'm going crazy, staring at the paintings on the walls here every day. I could close my eyes and describe you every detail.”

You point at the painting on the back wall, without turning to look at it.

“A dark haired woman in black garments, holding three blue flowers in her hand.” You point to another one, next to the painting of a woman.

“Sun setting on the rock of Ravatogh, with smoke rising from the summit...  Robert, I'm bored out of my mind.”

The elderly man looks at you, smiling. “Of course I understand that, my dear. But it's the Chancellor's orders. Even if I wanted to help you, it's not very safe, and I can't take you, I couldn't leave Marta alone here.”

“Then don't, let me go on my own! Is there a train? A bus? Can I use a car?”

Robert blinks, pursing his mouth and slightly shaking his head.

“Please. Pleeeeeease?” you beg.

“There is a train that runs through Tenebrae... but...”  
  
You jump up in your seat, excitement glimmering in your eyes. “But what?”  
  
“It's several miles away.”

“Do we have a car?”  
  
“Well, there is the Chancellor's car, but he would be furious if anyone took it...”

“Not with me,” you exclaim. “Where is it?”

“At the back,” Robert answers with a guilty look. “But it's covered in snow, and I really don't think you should touch it.”  
  
“Oh nonsense!” You jump out of the chair and run upstairs. Shoving a few essentials into a little bag, you throw a big, warm sweater on, hurrying back down and out the back door, leaving it wide open.

“Come and help me, Robert!” you holler, as the snowflakes float inside. “I know nothing about cars!”

 

Lucky for you, reluctant as he is, Robert agrees to help you get the car running. After an hour of cleaning the car of snow, fixing the convertible roof and warming up the engine, you're finally ready to set off. Robert doesn't shy away in letting you know how much of a bad idea he thinks it is, but you're determined, even excited to get away from the small cabin and to see Tenebrae, and Ardyn.

_Perhaps I'll even see the Prince_ , you ponder as you take the driver's seat. W _hen the time is right, I'm meant to help him commune with the Infernian... well, maybe now is the time. Why not._

You pull away from the building with cautious, jerky movements.

“You can drive, right?” Robert calls out from the door, following your dubious efforts.

“Yeah, kinda!” you answer, as you bring the car to the narrow road. “Thank you, and see you soon!”

With that you hit the gas, and the poor vehicle lets out a coughy roar as it accelerates down the icy path. From the side mirror you see Robert and Marta standing in front of the cabin, shaking their heads in unison.

You give the empty seat next to you a little pat. _Ok ugly old girl, time to show me what you've got._

You haven't driven for a long while, but luckily there are no other cars on the road, and not much chance of getting lost, since there is only one route. You attempt to turn the car radio on, but all you get is static. _Must be too far from civilisation._

The long road meanders up and down the snowy dunes. Everywhere looks the same, not a single house in sight. The sky is the deep colour of dark ink, and the road lights are few and far between.

You've had time to think during the past week, in fact that's all you've done, day in and day out, but it really only hits you as you're driving alone down the motorway. _This is it, there is no turning back._

You've started to come to terms with the fact that you'll have to face your fears and confront the last Astral at some point, to assist both the Prince and Ardyn in their pursuits. But despite hearing the story from Ardyn many times over, you're still hesitating wether you should take his side in it all. Regardless of that, you know at this point that the two of them are aiming for the same goal, the only goal that will see the world out of the endless night. It's only been a week, but you already hate it, and hope with all your heart it won't be much longer.

You notice the speed of the car decrease significantly without any warning, and the vehicle gradually comes to a halt.

_Damn it!_

Trying to start the car again, you notice it's not making any noises. You try again, several times, to no avail.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” you panic, looking out of the window and scanning the frosty, barren land. Not a soul. You try to estimate how long you have driven, but without a watch, it's nearly impossible to decipher. After a few moments of weighing your options, you decide to bite the bullet, and step outside.

You instantly note it's a lot colder than it was near the mountain, having reached the bottom of the valley. You gaze back the way you came from, but decide it's way too far to walk back that way. Looking ahead, you can make out something elevated in the far distance. _Train tracks!_

You reach inside the car and wrap up in every item of warm clothing you brought with you; another sweater, a scarf and gloves.

“I guess I'll see you later, old girl,” you sigh at the car as you slam the door shut. “Useless piece of shit...”

There's hardly any breeze, and you make good way as you stomp your way down the road. However, you soon realize the train tracks are much further away than you first estimated. You feel like you've walked for half an hour, yet the tracks appear only slightly nearer than before.

Humming a little song to yourself to keep your spirits up, you snicker at the idea of you trying to become a member of the kingsglaive. If you've learned anything during the past few weeks, it's definitely that you're not a soldier.

Despite the constant movement, the cold is creeping inside your boots and your toes start to feel numb. Your cheeks are burning from the cold air, and you have to keep your fingers tightly wrapped inside your armpits to keep them warm. The surrounding silence is deafening.

Reflecting on your poor decision, you're beginning to think you may not be capable of all the grand things Ardyn has been grooming you for. You wonder if he knows you've left the cabin, if Robert somehow managed to get word to him. A small hope inside you raises it's head, a faint optimism that perhaps he'll come to your rescue, as he had done before.

You cease the humming as the cold is starting to hurt your throat. You keep your gaze on the road, too scared to look up and see the train tracks in the horizon. _I'll get there when I'll get there._

After a while, your knees have lost all feeling and your feet are slow and clumsy. Pure anger and determination keep you going, as you grind your teeth together. You try to make a run for it, but your tired, cold feet slip under you and you fall backwards, nearly hitting your head on the asphalt.

“Shit!” you cry out as the shock of the fall mingles with the stinging pain of the cold. Slowly you get back on your knees, your eyes seeking out the train tracks in front of you. _Still so much further..._

You stand up, noticing your body is stiff and heavy. “Come on,” you whisper, “Come on, you can do this...”  
  
You drag yourself forward, slowly, your gaze fixed on the destination, as you start to understand you might not be able make it. Angry, disappointed, tired, tears stream down your face as you keep pushing on, every step more painful than the other. You may be weak, you may be foolish, but you're not a quitter.  
  
“I’m sorry Nyx... I’m sorry, everyone... I’m so sorry...”

Finally your legs give in, and you fall down on your knees, hugging yourself tightly, closing your eyes as the warm tears turn to cold little rivers on your cheeks.

_Is this it? Is this how it ends?_

You listen to the stillness, the quiet. _Should I accept it? Should I let it in?_

For a moment, you're ready to accept your destiny, but a breath, a gentle whisper next to your ear pulls you up from the brink, and you force your eyes open. A woman in a black dress, with long black hair and three blue flowers in her hand stands before you, smiling at you tenderly.

_I'm hallucinating_.

She approaches you with slow, soft steps. Her motion makes no sound, she doesn't move her lips, yet you hear her voice, clear and lucid.

“ _Do not waver, Oracle of the Pyre-burner.”_

You close your heavy eyes again, your body so incredibly tired, you want nothing more than to fall into the final, peaceful sleep.  
  
 _“Hold on to the flame, oh priestess, for there is much you need to accomplish.”_

Her words compel you to open your eyes once more, and you try your best to focus, though everything is blurry, as in a distant dream. You can make out her face, now closer to you, as she lays her hands on your shoulders.

“ _There is much you need to understand. Your destiny still awaits.”_

“I can't...” you whisper, your jaw clenching, barely managing to make the words audible.

The woman in black smiles at you, her face glowing, so tranquil and beautiful, you want to fall into her arms.

“ _Then let there be slumber, and reveries of yore. Rest your head, close your eyes child, for you are not yet adept...”_

She leans forward, softly pressing her lips against your forehead. A kiss cold as death, you feel your body give away instantly, your eyes shut, and you slip into the endless night. 

From that moment, there is only darkness.


	13. Redemption

Soon enough, you're robbed of the serenity of being nothing, and you're being pulled down, sucked through the vacuum with incredible force. You panic, desperately trying to regain control over your body – _where is my body?_

Gasping for air as you free fall in the blackness, with the speed of light, all you hear is a dizzying cacophony of noises; people, cars, magitek engines, the sea, the Hydraean screaming, your own breath, your own thoughts. You attempt to cry for help, but can't make a sound. Repeatedly trying to open your eyes, all you see is pitch black darkness, until suddenly, when it all feels too much to take, you realize the speed is slowing down, and you notice you're only gently floating downwards.

A little further, and finally it feels like your feet touch upon solid ground. Grateful at the sensation, you stretch out your arms to test if they're still there. Your hands find each other in the darkness, and you sigh from relief.

“That's me!” you exclaim in pure joy as you hear the breath escape your lungs.

“I'm here!” your own voice has never sounded so sweet, so reassuring.

_But where am I?_

Trying the ground in front, you take a few steps. Satisfied that it will carry you, carefully you step forward, trying to discover where you've ended up. A distant sound, reminding that of a crowd cheering catches your ear and you try to figure the direction it's coming from. The noises grow gradually louder and you pick up speed and walk towards them faster, running now as you look around to see something, anything to guide you away from the darkness.

Out of nowhere, you feel a touch on your arm, a small hand pulling your forward.

The words echo through the blackness, bouncing off invisible walls, a hundred times repeated:

“ _Look, there he is!”_

Lifting your gaze, the sun hits you like a swift punch, out of nowhere, forcing you to avert your eyes. You're surrounded by people, everybody shoving each other, trying to get closer to the passing tall figure that is causing all the excitement. Squinting, you peer up, trying to get confirmation to the creeping suspicion.

_Ardyn._

Pushing your way through the crowd, you try to catch up with the black chocobo that's carrying him forward through the sea of admirers. You manage to squeeze into the front, ramming through small openings between people, earning many annoyed comments as you pass. Catching up with the bird, you extend out your arm, grasping the hem of the coat that is loosely hanging on his shoulders. Turning to look back, his eyes meet yours, greeting you with a warm smile.

He reaches down, and you grab his hand, pressing your lips firmly on the backside of his palm, as you look up at his smiling eyes.

“My king...”

His thumb brushes your wrist gently.

“Do not enter the palace,” you whisper under your breath, exaggerating the words as you say them, hoping he will read your lips. “It's dangerous.”

He looks around, at the people climbing over each other to get closer to him, cheering, calling his name, then leans down, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“See me in the temple.” His warm breath tickles your skin as the low whisper escapes his lips.

Feeling yourself pulled back violently, you fall behind as a woman rushes in front of you, clinging onto Ardyn's arm.

“Did you see that?” she yells at the onlookers, “Please! Grant me a blessing too, oh darling healer!”

With a grin, he plants a grand kiss on her temple, and the woman falls dramatically backwards, into the crowd, loudly sighing in ecstasy.

Several others take heed and surround the chocobo in hopes of receiving a blessing of their own, as the poor bird tries to push through the people to the best of it's abilities.

Shaking your head, you pull your scarf over your head, looking around to make sure nobody paid too much attention to you.

An elderly woman pats your shoulder. “Lucky girl!” she says with a wink, her mouth erupting in a wide grin exposing her toothless mouth.

_Lucky girl..._

The words echo in the surrounding space as if inside a cave, and you notice all the commotion around you has come to a stop, the people frozen in their expressions of blind enthusiasm, the elderly lady smiling at you eerily.

The vision fades, into darkness, and as quickly as it disappeared, you feel yourself catapulted into another one, opening your eyes and realizing you're somewhere different.

In front of you, a low altar covered in dozens of red candles, gently flickering in the warm evening air, with a small bowl, a dagger and a glass of wine laid in front.

“I can't believe he let you go. Is he really that much of a fool?”  
  
You recognize the voice behind you, and turning around, meet the familiar golden gaze. He looks slightly younger, more vibrant, his skin smooth, his dark chestnut-coloured hair reaching all the way to his shoulders. The same tall man, yet his aura completely different; the same burning gaze, with the little mole under his left eye, yet more hunger for life in his eyes, more curiosity, more emotion.

“He does not rule over me,” the words come from your lips.

“You're brave to defy him. Very foolish, but brave nonetheless.” Lifting his arm, his hand brushes your hair from your face. Out of the corner of your eye, you see long, curly black locks falling past your shoulders.

“Did you make sure it's safe?”

“I don't care,” you declare. “I don't care anymore. I can't stand him. I despise him. He thinks morality is blindly following orders. He does not understand true conviction, nor passion.” Your breathing grows heavy. You're angry, bitter, yet looking into his eyes calms you strangely.

“My love, we're playing a dangerous game here...”  
  
“I can't stay away from you. Please don't even try to tell me!” Hearing yourself plead like that, the situation is starting to present itself clearer. The robust burning in your chest is not mere lust, it's a wild love, a love that literally brings you down to your knees, as you wrap your arms around his waist, looking up at him, running your hands up his sides.

“My darling, I can't pretend anymore. I adore you. He's not half the man you are. My love...” you lift his tunic and kiss his stomach, feverishly, the skin soft and salty, deliciously sinful.

Grabbing your face between his palms, he kneels down in front of you, looking deep into your eyes.

“You're reckless,” he sighs. His breathing is heavy like yours, as he holds you still, studying your face.  “Either you speak the truth, or you have bewitched me. You make a man go insane, but I can't stay away from you. Gods know I tried...”

“My love,” you start but he stops you, holding you firmer, as if demanding an explanation, a reason for this madness.

“You may well be the end of me... so promise me, promise me now that you will not abandon me in the darkness, like you have abandoned your king.”

“He is not my king,” you respond with determination. “My heart, my loyalty, my life – they're yours.”

His hands travel down to your throat and you close your eyes, wilfully surrendering control, yearning to be weak under his command.

“If death comes by your hand, there is no sweeter way to pass,” you whisper. The words come from deep within your soul, yet he responds with laughter.

Opening your eyes, you see him chuckling, shaking his head. You can't help but smirk back at him, and his hands release their grip around your throat. Slipping under the shoulders of your robe, he pulls it down gently, revealing your bare body as the crimson-colored robe falls to the floor. You notice the tattooed markings traveling down between your breasts and your abdomen as he traces his middle and index fingers all the way to your navel.

Lifting your gaze, your eyes lock for only a brief moment, before lips crash against your neck; teeth gently biting the sensitive skin, tongue licking up, pushing hard against your jugular vein, demanding your very life force, tickling playfully, then biting again.

You moan his name as  you want to allow the arousal to spread all over, but soon you feel yourself drifting upwards, looking down at the scene unraveling in front of your eyes, being pulled further from your body.

The darkness wraps all around you once more, this time lifting you through the emptiness, up, up, faster and faster, until you're spat out into a vast room. Looking around, you see dozens of people, looking at you; some with a stern expression, some with pity in their eyes.

A young woman with long black hair seems to be crying. Her upset bothers you, and you attempt to smile at her in reassurance, but a sharp pain instantly shoots through your throat, and you end up coughing uncontrollably, having to spit down on the floor.

_Blood._

“I ask you once more,” a voice calls from above, and you attempt to raise your head. Realizing you've been shackled with your hands over your head, movement is limited and strenuous.

“Have you practiced witchcraft, taken part in the forbidden rites of worship of the Infernian, or made ungodly pacts with the daemons?”

You let out a resonating laugh, coming from the pits of your belly, ending in another coughing fit.

“The only ungodly pact I made was with your so-called king,” you finally reply, noticing your undeniable exhaustion as you speak. “He knew what I was when he took my hand in marriage, a union I had no say in. A union I regret with every fibre of my being.”

“Stop! Please stop!” the young woman interrupts you, jumping up and earning the attention of the entire room. “Can't you see she's delirious? She needs water and rest! Any confession coming from her now can't be taken seriously!”

You shake your head at her, but her eyes burn with strong resolve. You must stop her, protect her at any cost.

“Right as my dear sister may be regarding my physical state, let it be made clear to the jury...” you take a deep breath and turn to spit out another blood-stained dribble. “I _have_ taken part in the worship of Ifrit, the misunderstood divinity, wilfully and joyfully, and I will state my loyalty to him, and the Lucian healer of the scourge – “ your words cause shocked gasps and murmur across the court “ – until the day the true king sits upon the throne again.”

The chatter in the room grows louder, and the voice from above calls for silence aggressively, several times, until the court finally calms down.

“In that case, it is my duty to give you the same sentence as we have given the false prophet – to be executed within the next fortnight. The execution method for practicing forbidden magic and witchcraft is to be burned at the stake, and the ashes to be scattered inside the Rock of Ravatogh.”

The words do not shock you, but the young woman leaps up in her seat once more, loudly protesting and trying to climb across the front row, ending up violently restrained by the guards in the courtroom.

You close your eyes, only for a moment, but upon opening them the room has vanished, and you're greeted with the darkness again, floating in the stillness and silence, deprived of all sensation, a calm, pleasant nothingness. You take in a deep breath of the void, and let out a sigh of relief.

 

Somewhere far behind you, you hear steps, coming a long way, slowly approaching. You try to turn around, but all movement is nonexistent, you can't tell left from right. The steps grow closer, then stop at a short distance. The  sound of shackles clinking echoes through the darkness, then a small, tired, familiar voice;

“How many times yet do you intend to execute me?”

“We are looking into other options.”

“Is there no purpose I could serve you alive?”

“No.”

 

A moment of silence, and your heart cries out, aching for some solace, some closure. You attempt to move, to find the voices one more time, but in vain.

 

“The ashes...”  
  
“We have scattered them in the summit.”

 

The conversation seems to be happening all around you, the voices bleeding into each other.

 

                 “People will remember the good I did...”  
  
     “People are feeble. They will forget.”  
  
         “Have I not served them? Have I not served you?”

 

“Pathetic...”  
  
                                                                                    “How long will you keep me here?”  
  
                                                            “Until you forget, too.”  
  
            “Forget...               what?”  
  
“Who

                 you                      are.”

 

 

 

You're cold, all of a sudden and all over, so cold your whole body shivers, abruptly, shaking yourself awake. Jumping up, you gasp for air like a drowning swimmer just barely reaching the surface. A deep breath – another one, you draw the air into your lungs, greedily, urgently. As the oxygen floods back into your body, you start warming up rapidly, your palms and soles of your feet burning, a welcome if a slightly uncomfortable feeling.

You look around: tall, dark marble walls surround you, the room empty apart from the broad bed you were lying on. Examining yourself, you notice you're wearing a dark silk robe, your skin appearing particularly pale against the shiny fabric.

“Hello?” Your voice echoes in the hollow chamber. Carefully you lift yourself up to legs that feel shaky and weak under your weight. Taking support from the wall, you make your way to the chamber exit, and peek out into the corridor that extends both ways, shiny marble walls that seem vaguely familiar.

Continuing to lean on the wall, you wobble out into the corridor, deciding to go left after a little consideration. The walls are cold against your burning palms, the floor smooth and cool under your bare feet, and you take great pleasure in the sensations. As you reach the end of the corridor, lifting your gaze you see him, standing in front of you looking truly surprised, baffled, concerned.

“You're awake.”

The sound of his voice makes your heart skip a beat, and your legs give in, making you fall forward. He catches you in his arms as you clutch the back of his tunic, desperately clinging to him, seeking out the amber gaze that alone can offer you salvation.

“My king...”


	14. Cure for Insomnia

Ardyn Lucis Caelum.

You stare across the bed at the beautiful man, the shining halo, the immortal being that is the culmination of all your burning desire; the man that robbed you from your future, the man that had sacrificed everything to give thousands a chance at another life. A man, that you now feel, you understand completely. His weakness, his patience, his despair, his wrath.

 _What was it that drew me to you? Could I have loved another man like this?  
_  
The silk sheets on the bed remind you of so many nights, so many passionate words whispered onto your hips. He smiles at you with sad eyes, reaching for your hand, wrapping his fingers tight around your palm. He's warm and deliciously inviting.  
  
“Your car!” you let out with a gasp, remembering how you left the prized vintage machine in the snow.  
  
He lets out a laugh and you join in with a confused giggle.  
  
“My darling, how extremely sweet of you. Waking up from ten years of slumber, and the first thing you worry about is my automobile?”  
  
You feel your gut tighten.  
  
 _Ten years?  
_  
You repeat it out loud, reluctant to believe it until you hear your own voice say the words.He squeezes your hand, giving you a silent nod.  
  
Ten years.  
  
What can happen in the space of ten years? A little twig can turn into a blossoming tree. A baby that is born can learn to walk and talk, grow to be a young person with a curious mind. Kings can be buried and crowned, nations can know times of both war and peace alike.   
  
Many things could change completely, but some things, some secret things, like the way his gaze makes you feel weak and intoxicated, remain exactly the same. Ten years have passed in a blink of an eye. One long night of restless nightmares.  
  
 _What about the people who knew me. Did they not look for me? Did they forget?  
_  
“How...?” Your question is simple yet all-encompassing.   
  
“Returning to Gralea, I was saddened to find out my two most beloved treasures had gone missing.”  
  
 _I left because I needed to see you. I was going insane.  
_  
“I found you in the snow, not far from Ghorovas Rift, where the corpse of the Glacian lays frozen in time. She had left her mark on you... rubbing salt in my wounds, claiming you for her own safe keeping.”  
  
 _The kiss of the Astral... was I... dead?  
_  
“That she has let you go now is a sign that the hour is late. You were kept safe for a reason, looked after by the goddess herself...” he tilts his head, “Oh, the irony.”  
  
A solemn smile spreads across his lips. Those lips, you've longed to taste them for so long, that toxic kiss that makes you feel more alive than anything. You can hardly contain yourself, as the feeling rushes over you like a flock of birds taking flight, and you climb over him, pressing your mouth against his. He lets out a low moan as you push yourself against him, only to be interrupted by his tight grip around your waist, pushing you back.  
  
“Be careful, my love...”  
  
Only then do you notice the tingling fire, the instant heat burning on your lips and in your chest, your skin glowing with a golden hue, reflecting in his amber eyes firmly fixed on you.  
  
“I don't care,” you move back on top of him, pulling his scarf down, attempting to open his tunic, planting kisses all over his face. “I need you.”  
  
He throws you down on the bed, but a wild volition has taken grip of you and you attempt to fight him, pulling him down with you, holding him nearer. You can't match his strength, and despite all your efforts he wrestles himself free, pinning your arms down to your sides.  
  
“Stop it!”  
  
You wrap your legs around him, trying to pull him closer but he manages to push you down, sitting on top of you with great frustration.  
  
“Are you that eager to throw away your life?!” he hisses, holding you down firmer, hurting your arms with his grip.  
  
“Give me my peace!” you demand, your eyes pleading, the longing of a hundred lifetimes washing over your body and soul. “You monster!”  
  
You stare at him, exasperated and desperate.  
  
“That I may be,” he sighs, “But I shall not let you go so hastily.”  
  
“What else is there left for me?” you cry out, realizing the heavy truth as it escapes your lips. Your chest heaving, hot tears run down your face as you peer deep into the eyes of the paradox of your very existence, the devil and the saint, the condemner and the saviour.  
  
“I hate you,” you whisper.  
  
And yet, you know he's not to blame. You know he has paid for his sins, a thousand times over.  
  
“I know,” he smiles. “And you are the only thing I have ever truly loved.”  
Closing your eyes, you see a faint vision of the altar in the temple, dimly lit by the candles, the wine-glass in your trembling hand as you bing it to your lips.  
  
“I did not deceive you. I did not turn you in.” You need him to believe your words. “I defied him until the end, and paid for it with my life.”  
  
“I know, my love.”  
  
“So why prolong this? Let me give the little that I can, to see that this is finally brought to an end.”  
  
He releases his grip and helps you up, wrapping the black silk gown around you.   
  
“Come.”  
  
Taking you by the hand, he leads you out of the room. You follow him through the long corridors, past the ink black marble walls, up a few flights of stairs until you reach a narrow balcony. The night is pleasantly warm, the breeze is soft and plays with your hair like a lover promising moments of intense pleasure in the near future. Looking across the dark courtyard stretching out below you, you suddenly recognise where you are.  
  
“Insomnia.”  
  
“Where it all began,” his voice low, he wraps his arms around your waist, enveloping you in his embrace, as the two of you gaze at the empty city that you once upon a time called home.  
  
The sky is full of stars, each competing with one another in their brilliance. Though empty now, you remember the city similarly filled with people, bumping into each other, making noise, music, laughter, cars honking, bright street advertisements repeating their jingles, the hustle and bustle that used to be your every day life.  
  
It feels like a distant dream. The things that were important then, your daily concerns and duties, don't seem to have anything to do with you now. The plans you were making, the things you were worried about have all melted away. And the strangest thing is, you feel at peace.  
  
“What do you wish for, my Queen?” he whispers into your ear, planting a gentle kiss on your neck. “Do you want a banquet? Champagne and caviar? Bathe in milk an honey? What do you need?”  
  
“I don't need anything,” you respond. “I don't want to waste any time.”  
  
“Oh, but for me?” he pleads. “Please. How can I make you happy?”  
  
His sweet suggestions warm your heart, but the truth is you only long to to calm your restless soul by becoming one with him. Everything else is a distraction, an excuse, a detour. Your long journey has brought you here, and now you crave the fulfilment, you crave the peace.  
  
“There is one thing,” you respond after a moment of reflection. “I would like to see the throne.”  
  
The throne room is on the top floor of the palace. You make your way there in total silence, and as you enter the hall your hands come to cover your mouth as you connect the dots in your mind.  
  
“I was here.”  
  
He presses his hand on your shoulder as you look around the room, your eyes scanning every detail until they stop on the throne.  
  
“I would like to see you...” you pause, realizing your request will aid you in reaching your goal. “Will you sit on the throne?”  
  
He makes his way up the stairs slowly, and you follow a few steps behind, savouring the bittersweetness of your unlikely return. Reaching the throne, he turns around, giving you a little bow, and takes a seat. An unexplainable mix of sadness and relief fill your heart.  
  
“My king,” you smile, coming to kneel in front of him, laying your head on his lap. He runs his fingers through your hair, and his touch sends shivers down your spine, just like you remember the first time. Resisting his closeness is a constant struggle. You're possessed, your blood commanding you to touch him, to taste him. Lifting your head, you gaze up at him, and see his eyes respond with the same seeping desire.  
  
“Don't deny me,” you repeat back his own words that he once uttered to you. “It's time.”  
  
He leans forward, pressing his mouth against yours, and right away you're on fire, your whole body tingling with pleasure from a simple kiss. Time seems to slow down as your tangle your fingers in his hair once more, everything you've ever wanter right here, in this moment.   
  
_I have kissed a thousand lips, none as sweet as yours.  
_  
He slides his hands under the shoulders of your robe, allowing it to fall down to your waist. You pull the silk belt open, releasing the robe as you climb into his arms, pulling up your night gown as he pulls you closer, leaning back on the throne.   
  
_I have waited two millennia, only to taste you one more time.  
_  
Both of you reach for his trousers, pulling them down while your tongues rub against each other, accompanied with slow moans.  
  
 _We damned each other with our sin, and now, that sin is the only thing to save us.  
_  
He runs his hand down your chest, in between your breasts, and dark markings appear on your skin where his fingers have touched. You laugh in delight and he looks at you with a perplexed mix of passion an pain, with tears filling his eyes. You hush him, pressing your lips against his, you hands pulling up his tunic and reaching down to find his arousal, more than ready as you wrap your fingers around his girth, moving your hips closer.  
  
“No – ” he attempts to stop you, but his words are cut off by a slow exhale as you massage the tip of his erection against yourself, gently pushing yourself against him.  
  
“Yes...”  
  
He enters you with a sudden, firm thrust of his hips, splitting you open, growing inside you, pushing against every nerve cell, earning another moan from you in full approval.  
  
“Yes!”   
  
The words echo through the hall, giving you goosebumps as you hear your sighs travel around the throne room in unison.  
  
You begin to move together in time, creating your own dance, as his hands cup your bottom, spreading you more open, pushing deeper inside you. The flames shoot out of your body and surround the throne, a ring of fire rising high towards the ceiling, dancing in time with you. The sweat from your body tickles as it rolls down your skin, evaporating instantly as it touches him.  
  
“Look at me,” he places his palm on your cheek and you gaze down, seeing his eyes turn black, the dark liquid oozing down his cheeks, dripping down from the side of his mouth. You lean in to kiss his eyes, his face, licking the saltiness of his sins as you ride him slower, deeper. Nothing about him can scare you anymore, you want to show him. Everything he is, you have become.  
  
You feel yourself squeeze him tighter inside you, as the pleasure he's giving you is reaching almost painful heights. Your whole body wants to rush to the finish line, a need so intense it makes you cry out in pain.  
  
“I can't...” you sigh as he slides out and in again, reaching the most sacred spot inside you, sending pulsating waves of ecstasy through your very core, a fire burning hotter than a thousand stars.  
  
“Not yet, my love,” he protests, pulling you closer, wrapping his arms tight around you, slowing down his movement, trying to hold you still as you desperately try to keep up the rhythm. “Not so soon.”  
  
Yet his words have no control over your body, you've lost all will power, all you want is to show him your full elation. He tries to pull out of you, but unwittingly sends you over the edge, forcing you to press your hips down firmly, reaching your full climax as you throw your head back in the rapture of the moment, arching your back and pushing your chest up toward the sky as your body is engulfed by a raging flame.  
  
“Damn you,” he moans, resting his head against your breasts, releasing his seed inside you, his body jerking violently with the pleasure. You draw a deep breath, a breath sweeter than life itself, a breath of pure bliss, an all consuming feeling of ecstasy that radiates through your whole being, a spreading euphoria you've never known before.  
  
And suddenly, everything turns black. In that moment, all light around you escapes and you find yourself inside the familiar, inescapable darkness.   
  
Looking around, you spot those two dimly flickering red dots, that eerie pair of eyes you remember seeing once before, lighting up in the distance. From the faint glow they shed around, you can make out several curved horns rising above the creature's head. You know he's come for you.  
  
“ _Priestess of the Infernian temple, Queen of the Pyre, you have beckoned me.”_  
The creature speaks in an unnaturally low voice, the words resounding from far away, yet you hear them clearly inside your head.  
  
“ _Do you wish to make a covenant?”  
_  
“I do.”  
  
You hear a deep, growling sound, resembling a sigh, and a gust of gentle, warm wind touches your skin.   
  
“ _Long have I slept the dreamless sleep. You know the sacrifice that must be made, for the Infernian to rise again. Are you willing?”  
_  
“I am.” Your answer comes easy.  
  
“ _Then gift me your life, in exchange for peace eternal, and allow the fallen king a chance at redemption.”  
_  
This is it – the moment you had feared, wanted to run away from, to deny it would ever happen – and you're relieved.  
  
“My life is yours for the taking.”  
  
The glowing eyes seem to move closer, yet despite your efforts you can't see the Astral any clearer, apart from the long, curved horns.   
  
“Then bid farewell, Priestess,” the words seem to come right next to your ear, “And come forward.”  
  
You blink, and for a moment, you're in the throne room, gazing down, seeing Ardyn kneeling on the floor, folded over your naked, lifeless body in his arms. You know the vision should upset you, yet your attention is drawn to the exquisite shimmer on your skin, an amber glow that you find extremely beautiful. You can't understand why he seems so upset.  
  
You want to console him, to wrap him in your arms and whisper words of encouragement to him, but as you try to approach him, you find yourself gently floating upwards, like a feather softly being blown towards the sky.   
  
The vision of you and him starts to grow gradually smaller, and you suddenly find it amusing; his evident sorrow, the unnecessary heartache he's witnessing as he lays you down on the floor, resting his head against your chest, more distant and further and further away now.  
  
A loving, cleansing blue glare starts to surround you as you travel higher, all the needless anguish melting away, the pureness of the light filling you with peace and serenity. As the borders of past and present, dream and reality start to gradually blend into each other, a single thought carries through with you, deeper into the entrancing new reality:  
  
 _Do not worry about where you're going, my love. I am already here._


	15. A Gentleman's Agreement

An annoying, persistent buzzing sound tears you from your sleep, and you reach over to your nightstand, looking for your phone. A thud, signalling you've just dropped it on the carpet, and reluctantly you shuffle to the edge, finding your phone on the floor, flashing an incoming call.

Without giving it another look, you lift it to your ear hastily, your foggy mind trying to comprehend where you are and what time it is.

“Good morning, sunshine! Time to get ready!”

“...what?”

“You're being summoned. This is it, better get up and head here ASAP. You got your big chance.”

Rubbing your eyes, you sit up in the bed, tiredness giving way to the adrenaline starting to rush through your sleepy body.

“Nyx, that's not funny. You've woken me up at 8 am and I've only had a few hours sleep... my head hurts...”

“Had a heavy night, huh?” the voice at the end of the line snickers.

“Don't laugh...”

“I'm not laughing, and it's not a joke. Orders from the Captain. They want you in the briefing room by ten.”

Your eyes widen with disbelief as you jump out of the bed, starting to search around the room, not really knowing what you're looking for.

“Me? But they said I'm not even fully accepted as a member! I haven't had any training yet! I'm only on standby for an absolute emergency.”

“Well, it must be an emergency...”

“Seriously, Nyx, what is it?”

“Look, it's all news to me. They were looking for someone with skills in photography, and I dropped your name. Despite a few others stepping forward, they ended up choosing you, so it seems. You must've made a real impression on the Captain at the tryouts,” he laughs again.

“That weird old perv...”

“Hey now, this is a good chance to make yourself useful. I'll meet you outside the building, just hurry up, you don't wanna be late.”  
  
“Of course not! Thanks, I'll hurry...”

“Alright. See you soon.”

Popping a piece of bread in the toaster, you brush your teeth while dressing in pieces of clothing you find on the floor that seem moderately clean.

_My life is a mess..._

Pulling on your leather jacket, you pop a few painkillers and down them with a glass of water, before slabbing a spoonful of jam on the toast and rushing out the door, promptly dropping the jam on your trousers in the rush.

_Now I am a mess..._

Making your way through the city on public transport during rush-hour is a doomed idea, so you hop on your bike and ride down the backstreets and shortcuts, giving your all to arrive on time. Pulling up to the headquarters, you look for a spot to tie up your bike.  In the midst of shiny, expensive looking cars, all you can find is a lonely tree. As you kneel down to wrap the chain around the trunk, you feel a gentle pat on your back.

“There you are. Made good time. You ok?”  
  
Looking up you see Nyx, dressed in his Kingsglaive uniform, looking clean and dapper.

“I rode like crazy,” you confess, realising you're still catching your breath as you speak. “I'm all sweaty, I probably stink...”

“Well, I didn't wanna say anything...” he grins, earning a little shove from you.

“Shut up,” you chuckle. “I'm so nervous. I have no idea what to say or do...”  
  
“Don't be,” he reassures you. “I'll escort you in. Just relax, be yourself. If it feels too much, you can always say no. But if you want to get in, I would say yes...”

“I know, that's what I'm nervous about,” you let out a deep sigh as you stroll across the parking lot.

“You'll do great,” he smiles at you, placing his hand on your shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. “There must be a reason why they called you.”

Nyx sees you to the briefing room, with it's large windows overseeing the courtyard used for training. Looking down, you're reminded of the painfully embarrassing physical exams that were the tryouts. You always thought you were relatively strong and with good physique, yet climbing ropes and jumping up walls proved to be a bit too much to handle, for you, and for several others. Only the best of the best would make it to the glaive anymore, it seemed, since people around Lucis had caught wind of the opportunities within the Citadel.

“You're here. Perfect.”

Turning around, you see a tall man with a rugged face enter the room, dressed in a mauve leather army garb. Nyx straightens himself, nodding.

“Captain.”  
  
“Thank you Ulrich. You can wait outside.”

“Sir.” Nyx turns to give you a quick little wink, and exits the room, pulling the double doors closed as he goes. You turn to Titus Drautos, the Captain of the Kingsglaive. Putting on a friendly smile, you give a little bow.

_I am so out of my element here. What am I doing..._

The Captain scans you, from top to toe and back again, and a little smirk spreads across his lips.

“At ease.”

_At ease?_ You have no idea how you're supposed to react to 'at ease', so you give an understanding nod. He lets out a little amused grunt.

“Ulrich tells me you're into photography?”

“Yes sir. I love to take pictures,” you respond enthusiastically, not knowing what to do with your hands. The room has one low table, but no chairs, nothing to sit on, and you feel awkward being interviewed standing up. Wanting to appear relaxed, you lean on your right leg, putting your hand on your hip, but immediately feeling like you look stupid, assume a straight-backed stance and bring your hands together in front of you. The Captain seems mildly amused, but doesn't comment on your clumsy shifting.

“And you have your own camera?”  
  
“Yes sir, and three lenses.”  
  
“Very nice.”

He approaches the table, leaning back on it and crossing his arms.

“You were in the tryouts recently...”  
  
“Yes,” you nod. _Oh dear, here we go._

“I remember. Why did you decide to apply for the Kingsglaive?”

“I...” you panic, not having anticipated a question like that. You can't exactly say you're here for the money, or the huge fascination you've had since childhood with forbidden magic, that only the King and his glaives can use.

“I was looking for a way to do something good for my country,” you respond, quite convincingly. “I know Nyx... Ulrich, and he recommended it to me.”  
  
“Very well. Did he tell you about the physical requirements for the job?”  
  
“Yes, he did... I thought, I mean I hoped, that perhaps I could be of use as a mage...”

“No need to explain yourself,” he interrupts. “For the job I am offering, you are perfect.”

You hear yourself swallow loudly. “I... I am?”

“It's an undercover job. You need to look right and blend in. I don't know if you've followed the news recently, but the Empire has offered Lucis a peace treaty, that the King is likely to accept.”  
  
“I have,” you admit. _Hell, everyone is talking about it, everywhere, all the time._

“If this happens, the Empire will most likely visit Insomnia with a very important delegation for the treaty signing. The Emperor and Chancellor are likely to be in attendance...” he pauses, clearing his throat, “By the way, this is all top-secret that I'm telling you.”

“Of course!” you respond, feeling your palms starting to sweat.

“That means what ever I tell you, can not go outside these walls,” he makes a nod towards the door, where Nyx is waiting outside. “Understood?”

You take in a sharp, determined breath. “Yes, sir!”

“Splendid. I'm glad we understand each other. Your job is to appear at an event that will be arranged on the night before. As the royal photographer, you'll be able to come and go as you please without being noticed. And most importantly, get close to the important people.”

The amount of information flooding from the Captain's mouth is starting to overwhelm you, yet you try to stay focused, determined this is your best chance to make a case for yourself.

“Now don't worry, you won't have to deal with the Emperor. But...” he pauses to look at you sternly, narrowing his eyes, as if still trying to decide if you're capable of doing the job. “You should be able to get close enough to the Chancellor. Wire him up.”

You feel your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach. _The Chancellor?_ A man you've only ever seen on the magazines, rumoured to be the strong influence on the Empire's recent political moves.

“Are you up for it?”

“Yes sir!” the words escape your mouth before you even have a chance to think it over.

“Good. Then we're in business. I'll instruct Ulrich to keep you updated on the situation. We'll take care of the arrangements, now you just concentrate on keeping this under the lid.”  
  
You nod aggressively to everything he says, nervously massaging your hands together.

“Alright,” he gets up, walking to the door and hinting that you should follow. You hurry after him, pausing as he stops at the door, turning to look at you with a perplexed expression. You hold his gaze, waiting on his every word.

“Don't be nervous. It can only be you,” he gives you a gentle little smile, tilting his head. “This is a very special mission.”

You take his odd choice of words as an attempt to encourage you, and respond with a brave smile, trying your best not to disappoint.

“Thank you, Sir.”  
  
“Don't thank me just yet...” he lets out under his breath, pulling the doors open and gesturing for Nyx.

“Ulrich, please escort the lady outside. We're done here.”  
  
He responds with a prompt “Sir,” and you follow him down the long corridor, past numerous doors with different combinations of letters and numbers written on top of them.

“So, how did it go? Not so good judging from his tone of voice?” Nyx pries as soon as you've turned the corner into another endless corridor.

“I got the job!” you whisper loudly, trying your best to contain your excitement.

“No way... really?”

“Yes!” you giggle.

He stops to give you a big hug, lifting you off the floor. “Well done. Proud of you!”

“Thank you,” you laugh, exhaling deeply as he lands your feet on the ground again.

“I still can't believe it...”  
  
“You had any breakfast today, you hungry?” he asks, taking you down a flight of stairs and into the lobby of the building.

“I'm starving!” you exclaim as the nerves start to melt away and you slowly become more grounded.

“Perfect, I know a great place nearby where the glaives go all the time,” he grins. “Come on, my treat.”

As you step outside into the fresh air and the daylight, you take a look at the city buildings around you, feeling out what it would be like to come here regularly, for work, as of now.

Your eyes pause to gaze on a large display on the side of a tall glass building.  The broadcast plays out news footage, a repeat of a recent speech by the Niflheim Emperor, with the Chancellor standing by his side. The camera zooms in on the Chancellor, and for a brief  moment, he looks straight at you. Your heart skips a beat, causing you to miss your step, and you stop, grabbing Nyx by the arm to keep your balance.

“Alright?”

The camera cuts to a wide shot, and Nyx looks up at the screen, curious to see what you're staring at so intensely.

“I know, it's all a bit suspicious, isn't it?”

“Yeah...”

“Don't worry, we got this. I'll have your back.”

You can't help but smile at him, his cocky expression and the way he always makes you feel like everything's easy, everything's attainable.

“Yeah, I know. You and your hero-complex... That's exactly what worries me,” you respond, your bluntness making him chuckle.

As you turn off the big road to a narrow side street, heading towards a busy looking corner with several small eateries back to back, you take in the sweet and spicy smells mixing in the air, teasing your hungry stomach. You start to feel excited for the future; after a long while, it seems like things might be turning out okay for you.

Following your friend into a busy cafe, you take a seat at a corner table, moving aside old newspapers covered in speculative articles and pictures of the Imperial Chancellor.

“What do you want?” Nyx asks as he waves at a waitress picking up her notepad at the counter.

“You choose,” you reply cheerfully. “I'm feeling adventurous.”


End file.
